


Vol. A - The Power of the Curse

by ErnestREDeer



Series: Book 0102 - The Forging of the Family [1]
Category: Dragon Quest VIII
Genre: Canon Related, Eight is not called Eight, Eight is not mute, Eventual Relationships, Gen, Minor Original Character(s), Minor Original Content, slight AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-02
Updated: 2020-08-22
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:28:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 132,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22455730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ErnestREDeer/pseuds/ErnestREDeer
Summary: Following the festivities celebrating the engagement of Princess Medea, heir to the throne of Trodain, to Prince Charmles of Argonia, a sinister jester breaks into the Royal Vaults and steals an ancient artefact, unleashing a terrible curse on the capital. The sole survivor leads the cursed royal family on quest to restore their kingdom and bring this cruel jester to justice.The first part of a re-telling/re-imagining of Dragon Quest 8 written before the remake, expanding on characters and world-building to the point that I'm labelling this an AU. Not a word-for-word repeat, although there are some direct quotes. Eight is not mute, and not called Eight.This is/was my first story, and first one cross-posted to this site. Feedback appreciated. May be slow responding to comments.
Series: Book 0102 - The Forging of the Family [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1615843
Comments: 12
Kudos: 52





	1. The Curse

The night sky looked deceptively normal. The stars twinkled at their reflection in the shimmering sea, only outshone by the moon’s pale glow that illuminated the city below. From her vantage point on the battlements she could see the city stretch down the hill, the lights in the windows flickering out one by one as Trodain’s inhabitants finally went to sleep. She could still hear the faint traces of music from the city park, the last bastion of the revellers before the Royal Guard ordered the celebrations to end.

It had been a glorious night, with acrobats and jesters and musicians invited to entertain the Helmsmen and Greater Hands from all over the kingdom, and the Lesser Hands had put on entertainment of their own. Everyone had been looking forward to tonight for months, even before the Becalm Day had been officially announced, and they had thrown themselves into the celebrations with eager abandon. Even the stuffiest Helmsmen had allowed themselves to be carried away with the merriment of it all, helped with vast quantities of alcohol and rich cuisine.

Everyone it seemed but her. Which was ironic, considering she was Princess Medea, heir to one of the Three Kingdoms, and it was her party. Well, it was a banquet in her honour, celebrating her engagement to Prince Charmles of Argonia and the fulfilment of the ancient promise of their great-grandparents. And it **was** an honour – Argonia was the greatest of the Three Kingdoms, wealthy and powerful, not to mention the largest. It would seal an alliance between the two mighty kingdoms that spanned the Northern and Western Continents, symbolising an end to the old rivalry and bringing about a new age of peace. It would affirm her place in history, even for only the symbolic role she played, and earn the love and respect of her people. And most important of all, it would make her father happy.

However there was no escaping the fact that she would be leaving her home, her friends, and most importantly her father, to live in a strange and foreign land. A land that she only knew from books and travellers’ tales, far distant from her own. She, who had only once left the city walls for a single day, and even that had been done in secret; it had taken her weeks to persuade her dear friend Jay to smuggle her out of the castle. And now she was supposed to travel to a whole new continent, a journey that would take months, including weeks of sea travel, to a place that was completely alien where she did not know anyone. It scared her. She did not even know what Prince Charmles would be like outside the ambassadors’ reports. She hoped he would be handsome, but she knew enough to know it would be better if he was kind and loving, and that he would always care for her. Maybe he would let her return to Trodain occasionally to see her father...

Dear father... She was going to miss him terribly, and the rest of Trodain. Everything she had ever known was here, and she was taking nothing but her maid Zoe with her. Still, she must go through with the marriage, not just because it was her duty, but for her father’s sake. She had only been a child at the time, but she remembered he had been so happy when King Clavius’ ambassador had proposed the engagement. She knew things had been difficult for him ever since mother died in the Queens’ Plague, even if he put on a brave face for the rest of the world. She could not deny him this, the fruit of years of negotiation, the legacy he strived to leave for his kingdom and their world. But even so, for all her bright smiles and fine words, she could not help but look on the coming days with something akin to dread. It was going to be very hard, but she had to be strong. For her kingdom, for her father, and, perhaps, for-

A shadow abruptly fell over her, making her jump. “Come with me, Medea” came a voice, and she whirled round to look at the squat figure behind her. She had no idea how her father was still able to sneak up on her like that. “I know you like to look at the stars, but you should not be out in this cold weather. Perhaps you should retire to your chambers?”

She had hoped to have been left alone in her thoughts for a while – she was usually chaperoned by her tutor or surrounded by servants or Helmsmen wanting to curry favour, so it was rare that she could take moments like these to get away from it all. Still, her father was right – it was very cold, and her thin white gown was hardly the right attire for a night on the battlements, even with her blue cloak.

She turned and flashed her most brilliant smile at her father, carefully concealing all doubts behind it – she had spent days practising in front of a mirror so that not even he could see past its warm glow. “Of course father, I shall come right away” she agreed, following him back to the warm indoors, soldiers snapping to attention as they passed.

She cast a final glance back, but not one of them looked at her, the _real_ her, rather than the Princess of Trodain, not even as the White Rose of the North. She supposed that was the way it would be from now on, as it always had been, ever since...

She sighed and stepped inside, her time outdoors doing nothing to clear her head like she had hoped; the heavy weight of responsibility pressed down on her shoulders more than ever. She could only hope she could live up to her kingdom’s expectations.

\-----

“The princess seems a bit down” Jay commented, once the two royals were out of sight. He and George resumed their rounds like they were supposed to, but their early zeal as recruits in the Royal Guard called to protect the castle had long since faded with the boredom of routine.

“She looked the same as ever to me” his partner snorted, looking as out of place as Jay did. The Royal Honour Guard were supposed to be tall and dashing, strong and graceful; he was plain and scrawny with messy brown hair, and George was short and squat. Both of them proved that one size didn’t fit all, their second-hand armour hanging loosely off Jay and struggling to contain George, but the armoury wouldn’t make the adjustments because they’d soon grow out of it, and why go to the expense for mere recruits?

“Besides, the whole banquet tonight was in celebration of her engagement with the Prince of Argonia, literally the highest and most noble suitor there is – no-one else even compares!” George went on, a touch of envy creeping into her voice – her own lack of suitors was what had compelled her family to enrol George into the Royal Guard to avoid the shame and embarrassment of failing to find a husband willing to take her. “He is even close in age, and that is no guarantee for a princess. She has been training for this her whole life – why would she _not_ be happy?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. She just doesn’t seem happy. Why else would she be out here? It’s cold, and out of character for her to go out this late.”

“Maybe she just wanted to clear her head after drinking too much wine or something. Come on Jay, why would you- Oh, I know what this is about: this is just another ‘I know the Princess’ thing, is it not?” George sighed, rolling her eyes at him.

“I didn’t say that.”

“But that **is** what you mean – you think you know her better than the rest of us mere mortals.”

He shrugged again. “I did get to know her when I was cleaning the royal suites.”

“Yes, yes, you were a servant – I **get** that. We all do. No need to keep on about it.”

“Everyone else brings it up all the time – I don’t see why I can’t. Besides, it’s not like I’m ashamed of my past; I’m **proud** I was a servant. Working in the castle as part of the royal staff is a pretty prestigious post on its own, you know, especially when you’ve got no connections like me.”

“True, true... Which is why it is crazy that you managed to get a post in the **Royal Honour Guard**. The City Militia I could understand, but the Honour Guard? Only families of Helms and some of the most powerful and wealthy Greater Hands have the honour of guarding the castle, and you are not even a Lesser Hand. If you were some sort of prodigy I might understand, but you are the bottom of the rankings and have not even won a single practice bout. You can hardly be surprised that the others resent your presence, given how fierce competition for a space is.”

“Unlike everyone else, **I** haven’t been trained to wield a sword since I was six, so I’m not going to be top of the class in just a couple of months. It’s not as if the Sergeant wants to teach me anything. Besides, I seem to remember nearly beating you once.”

“Yes, well” she spluttered. “You just kept running around and dodging! I just got frustrated and careless! It was only a momentary lapse, and you took full advantage of it! And now everyone thinks me second-last, and we have been made partners! All because of you.” He could understand her resentment – if the two of them had been a joke before, put next to each other it was even worse. “Still, it was a good plan. I have to respect that, even if you fumbled it at the end.”

“Well, my stamina’s the only thing I’ve got going for me at the moment.”

“Oh, no doubt – you are probably the fittest of us all. I remember the first day, when we had run twenty-five laps of the castle courtyard, and you were not even tired!” George remembered fondly. “And when the Sergeant forced you to run five more, you kept on going!”

“Yes, well, I lost count. I thought he would tell me when to stop! I wasn’t trying to show off!”

“Well, he certainly has not let up on you since. But you know what they say, ‘What does not kill you makes you stronger’. Though why the Honour Guard has to do all this running I will never know.”

“Well, it helps whip the new recruits into shape – builds up stamina” he grinned, poking his partner in the stomach.

“Hey, easy! I am still tender there!”

“I’m not surprised – how many servings did you polish off at the banquet? Six?”

“Not all of us can be beanpoles like you.”

“Not if you eat that much all the time!”

“I will have you know that a gut like this is what all men strive for” George joked, patting her still-full belly.

“Oi! You two!” The voice of the sergeant snapped from behind them, making them jump. “What are you doing, gabbing about? Get back to your patrol!”

“Yes Sir!” both of them cried out, saluting and hurrying away.

“Old has-been” George muttered. “What does it matter anyway? It’s not like Trodain has any enemies.”

“There are always the monsters” he pointed out.

“Yes, but they never approach such large numbers of humans, and certainly in not enough numbers to threaten us. After all, when was the last time something happened around here?”

“Er...” He couldn’t actually think of an answer to that.

“Exactly. Nothing ever happens around here, that is why they put the trainees on wall duty and give the Royal Detail to the Regulars – this is just make-work.”

“It isn’t!”

“Jay... I know this is your dream and all, but you have to understand by now it is not like the story books – you are not some heroic knight fighting for justice, you are just doing a job like the rest of us, repeating the same dull old thing day in and day out. Nothing will ever happen, and even if it did, they certainly will not need **our** help!”

\-----

“Help! Guards! Anyone! Come quickly!” Medea cried as Trode pressed his hands to the guard’s wounds, blood seeping round his fingers and onto his clothes. The man was losing too much blood; they had little time.

“What is going on? What happened here?” he demanded urgently, but the guard didn’t respond, his eyes unfocused. Blast it all, he was losing him! If only if he knew some healing magic, if only he hadn’t left only a skeleton guard in place so the rest could join in the festivities, if only someone was nearby... Wait, there was one thing he could try! “This is King Trode, ruler of Trodain and your commanding officer! Report! Tell me what happened here, I **command** you!”

The soldier’s eyes flickered weakly, no doubt recognising his commanding Royal Voice, and struggled to focus on him. “Y-your Maj...esty! He... broke in... the sealed-” He broke off with a hacking, gurgling cough. “Sire... get to... safe...ty...”

“Stay with me soldier! You have not finished your report!” he ordered, shaking the man as he struggled to bring him back round. “Who did this? Answer me! I order you to speak!”

The guard did not reply, his head lolling to one side.

“Damnation! Curse the fiend who did this to one of my men!” He clasped the man’s hand and spoke quietly. “Fear not, your death shall not go unavenged. I will send the foul villain to follow you shortly.”

“Father, there is another up ahead” his daughter began, starting to go over to where the guard’s partner lay unnaturally still. He gripped her cloak before she could go any further, grimacing as his blood-soaked hands stained it – she was too young to see this.

“Medea, you should not be here” he told her, his voice low. “Go for help – the change of the guard was not long ago, there must be some soldiers nearby still, and if not there are still servants in the kitchen. See that these men are properly treated, while I go and find the devil responsible for-”

“What? No! How could I leave you now? The intruder may still be up here, and he is clearly armed! What if something were to happen? It is too dangerous!”

Why did she think he wanted to send her away!? “There is no time to argue! The sooner you find someone, the sooner we can corner the blackguard before he has a chance to accomplish his foul deed, whatever it may be. I shall-” Wait, the guard mentioned the sealed-

Seeing the discarded tapestry on the floor for the first time, he let out a strangled cry and darted forward. Passing through the previously-hidden door, the lock now broken and the magics dispelled, he ran up the stairs to the Sealed Chamber. The relic within had been protected by his forefathers for generations – if someone stole it, the shame would be-

Bursting through the doors at the top of the stairs, he saw a man stood before the magic staff, his hand stretching towards it. “Step away from that you... you... you murdering thief! I forbid you to touch that Sceptre!” Of all the times for his tongue to fail him!

Fortunately his uninspired words had the desired effect, distracting the thief from the magical relic before he had a chance to seize it. The thief was a man of considerable height and insubstantial weight, not quite starved but certainly the victim of hard times. Yet on closer inspection the man was not dressed in the garb commonly associated with his ilk, instead wearing an elaborate chequered jester’s outfit of red and purple. He wore the large flamboyant puffy trousers and jacket, the traditional jester hat that tapered into seven points with bells on the end and, incredibly, two long shoes with curly toes with bells on the toes that made an incongruous jingling sound every time he moved. There was nothing funny about the sharp looking dagger he held in his hand however, still dripping with the blood of the two guards he had surprised in the hallway.

The jester had beady little eyes that glimmered with malice, and with his hooked nose and his malevolent sneer it was enough to give children nightmares of jesters for years. In fact, the more he looked the more it became incredible that the man could have ever passed for a jester in the first place – the outfit was clearly a disguise to gain entry into the castle. And it was equally clear that he was after the castle’s priceless magical relic and his second most precious treasure – the Magic Sceptre.

“Well, if it isn’t King **Troll** and Princess **Mare** _-_ dea?” the thief sneered, grinning a deeply unpleasant grin as the villain savoured the moment. However Trode was distracted by the intruder’s revelation; his precious daughter Medea had crept up behind him instead of going for help like she had been told! He stared at her incredulously, but she just looked back stubbornly. What was this? She had never defied him before! Why did she choose tonight of all nights to start her teenage rebellion?

“I’m so glad you’ve turned up – you’re just in time to see me claim my prize” the ‘jester’ went on in his smug slow drawl. “I honestly didn’t expect you to find me, but now that you’re here – tell me, is this sceptre as powerful as they say?”

“So, you are a thief, are you?” he said in reply, biding his time as he weighed up the situation. “Did you come here disguised as a jester just so you could sneak in during the festivities and steal my family’s magic sceptre while we were asleep?

“How perceptive of you; you’ve saved me from having to explain myself” the man drawled. “I heard all about it, you know – a legendary magical relic sealed deep within Trodain Castle that could bestow ultimate magical power. I spent months preparing myself, practising my silly act in wretched little villages just so that I could slip in with the crowd during the festivities, then seize my prize while everyone was distracted. And now that moment is at hand!”

“ ** _Stop!_** That sceptre must never leave this castle!” he yelled desperately, but it was already too late. The thief grasped hold of the relic and cast an unlocking spell – the six chains that fixed the staff to the centre of the room snapped off, clattering loudly on the bare stone floor with a note of terrible finality. The thief lifted the old magic relic in his hands triumphantly, the length of the staff almost as tall as him, easily reaching his chin.

“With this sceptre, nothing can stop me!” the thief crowed triumphantly. “I’ll become the greatest mage in the world! I’ll finally have all the wealth and respect I deserve! Then I’ll have my revenge on those scornful snobs who made a fool of me! All will bow to my power, the greatest mage of all time, Dhoulmagus!”

Then the thief Dhoulmagus paused, turning back to face them. “But first, it’s time to test its power. King Trode, you and your daughter will be the first to face the power of the sceptre.”

He barely had time to register the full horror of that statement before Dhoulmagus pointed the staff at him. His hope that someone might raise the alarm while Dhoulmagus gloated had come to nothing, so it was down to him. At the very least, he might throw himself on the magic relic and buy his daughter enough time to escape and raise the alarm. He started to charge forward-

Only to see his daughter throw herself in front of him, having reached the same conclusion herself. His last thought as they were both engulfed by a white light was that his daughter had grown into a fine woman, and pray that the Goddess might find a way for her to live through this.

Then pain wracked his body, and everything went black.

\-----


	2. The Journey Begins

Jay woke on the battlements, his face pressed against the cold stone. Abruptly he felt throbs of pain from his chest, his back, his head, and aches from almost everywhere. He pushed himself upright, blinking as his vision swam in front of him, a wave of nausea flooding through him. Something had hit him, hard, but what? He couldn’t remember... but he must have been out for some time, as he could see the tell-tell sign of the sun beginning to rise above the horizon, the dark night sky beginning to turn a light blue.

Wait, the sun was rising? His patrol! If the Sergeant found him lying around like this, he’d kick him out of the Guard for sure! Goddess knew he’d been waiting for an excuse. He got up as quickly as he could, staggering under the weight of his armour as another wave of dizziness hit him. Grasping hold of the turret wall, he just about managed to stay upright. He was in a lot worse shape than he thought.

And so was his armour. His helmet was so badly dented he couldn’t actually look up, so he fumbled at the buckle to undo his chinstrap and tugged it off. It had got jammed on his head pretty badly and some of his hair was caught in the mess, so it took him a while to work it loose, but when it did, it came off so suddenly that he dropped it.

The clanging sound it made echoed eerily around the castle, making him jump, and for the first time he noticed how unnaturally silent it was. Even in the early hours of the morning there would be people bustling about – he used to be one of them, rising with the rest of the castle staff to light the fires and prepare breakfast. There should be soldiers on patrol, bakers and other early risers heading to work in the city or coming to pray to the Goddess. And then there was the sound of the birds that trilled their morning song, or dogs that barked a greeting, horses that neighed a welcome... But today there was nothing, just a deathly silence.

He shivered. Something was very wrong.

He saw the unmistakable silhouette of his friend George lying on the floor and tip-toed over to her, tripping over something in the twilight shadows and crawling the rest of the way. “George! George!” he hissed. She didn’t answer. “Come on George, **wake up!** This is no time to be sleeping on the job!” She still didn’t answer. Sighing, he knew there was only one thing left for it: “Come on Georgia! It’s too late for beauty sleep!”

She still didn’t wake up. Scared now, he went to shake her by the shoulder, but he cut his hand on something and yelped in pain. Snatching his hand back, he was startled to see it was bleeding heavily. But what could he have cut it on?

The sun finally rose above the horizon, and the feeble light finally allowed him to make out-

**_HOLY GODDESS HAVE MERCY ON HIS SOUL!_ **

He gave a shriek of terror and leapt backwards tripping over that thing on the floor and smacking his head heavily on the stone, almost knocking him out again. Even so he still struggled to get away, scrabbling away until his back was pressed against the wall, chest heaving and eyes wide with horror.

How long he stayed pressed against the wall clutching his good-luck medallion and his pet mouse Munchie as he stared at what had once been George, he did not know. It must have been some time, because it was light before he finally managed to form a coherent thought.

Georgia, more commonly known as George as she was such a tomboy, the fifth heir of Helmsman Vincent and third daughter of his house, recent recruit into the Royal Honour Guard, had been... turned into a plant.

He blinked and rubbed his eyes and looked again, but there was no denying it – her dark skin had turned a dark green, her shortly cropped brown hair had turned a lighter green and sharp thorns had sprouted across her body – it was one of those that he’d cut himself on. Despite turning green and covered in thorns though, she still seemed exactly the same: he could make out the individual hairs on her head, and a thin, lighter green scar on the back of her hand where George had cut herself during training two days ago. Even her mouth, opened to scream, had turned green and rubbery.

Looking at her now, he realised she wasn’t quite lying on the floor – just frozen in position as she tripped and fell backwards, a hand forever stretching to catch herself before she hit the floor. It was... it was just so unreal. How could she have...?

Touching her green flesh, any hopes that this was all a lurid dream vanished as he felt the sharpness of the thorns and the smoothness of the ‘stem’. George felt slightly warm, as if she was still alive, still there somehow under this horrid curse. But there was no escaping it – George had been turned into a plant.

With the brightening dawn light he could see what he’d tripped over earlier was a vine, and part of it had branched off to strike George in the chest. The vine was probably what had transformed her. But where had it come from?

He tracked the vine as it snaked its way along the castle battlements, following it until it reached a bigger vine that was as thick as his chest pouring over the castle walls. And that was when he saw that things were much worse than he thought.

The early morning light, brighter now that the sun was rising over the horizon, revealed the true extent of the damage. The castle had lost two of its turrets, one falling onto the battlements and the other tumbling into the courtyard below. The castle’s main entrance had also been sealed as vines broke the staircase from the courtyard, and the fountain in front of it now lay dry and empty. The vines had spread past the battlements however, and he could see more vines pouring into and out of the castle walls, breaking through the tough stonework as if it was made of wool.

But the vines hadn’t stopped there – they had continued on, ploughing through the castle gardens and over the moat into the city itself. The drawbridge over the moat just about held, and at the other end of King’s Way half the church had caved in. Further into the city entire streets were cut off by huge vines as wide as a wagon blocking the path, and many houses lay in ruins as foundations and walls crumbled faced with the power of whatever magic had caused this. Even the city walls had not been able to withstand these vines.

The city walls! That meant monsters would be coming, drawn by the desolation. And soon.

Still, if he was here, then others must be out there somewhere; maybe they would have the answers. Maybe they’d know what to do. It was one of the first rules of being a Royal Guard – ‘if you spot anything suspicious, report it – don’t try and be a hero, because if something happens to you no-one will know’. So, first he had to find a superior officer – he’d start with the Sergeant, since as the most junior of the officers he’d been placed in charge during the festivities. He’d been in bad humour about it all month, taking it out on the recruits and him in particular. He dimly remembered the Sergeant snapping at them for talking whilst on patrol not long before he lost consciousness, so he’d probably be writing the two of them up. And that meant he’d be in one of the turrets.

Well, further forward was blocked by a collapsed turret, and the other way was cut off by the vines, so that only left him with a couple of choices. But before he did anything else, he needed to ditch his breastplate – it was badly buckled from the blow that had knocked him out, and he could barely move in it. The silence was beginning to unnerve him, so he undid the straps and put it down slowly, taking care not to make any noise – who knew what might be lurking in wait out there.

Without the centrepiece to hold onto though the rest of his armour began to come loose – it had never fitted properly to start with, and now it was threatening to pull him over. By the time he got rid of everything that didn’t fit he was left with only his gauntlets and greaves, but it would have to do until he could find someone in charge.

He found the Sergeant in the first turret he came to, bent over a table as he wrote up his report, no doubt intending to make him and George suffer. But then the curse had got him as well – an expression of surprise was forever frozen on his face as he looked up at the vine that had struck him.

So… what next? With so many of them from Helmsman families most of the officers had been granted leave to be with their families or had otherwise decided to enjoy the celebrations in the city. Other than the Sergeant, there was no-one else on duty. ...Except the Marshall – with most of his family dead he tended not to join in the celebrations anymore. He’d probably be in his office, co-ordinating whoever had survived to fix everything somehow; that was where he’d head next. As soon as he got some more clothes...

He crept down the stairs, treading carefully in case it suddenly gave way – the castle didn’t seem quite so secure anymore with the vines breaking through the walls here and there and everywhere. He also drew his sword, which had thankfully survived the devastation – his spear had been snapped in half like a twig. It was only a small copper training sword, blunt and unlikely to do much damage, but he’d found in practice that if you put your weight behind it then it would leave a nasty mark, and it was certainly better than nothing. Besides, at least he had something to defend himself with.

He gripped the hilt tight as he passed the first of the victims in one of the deserted corridors. For some reason he’d hoped that maybe it was just the Royal Guard that had been targeted, that maybe those inside would be safe, but of course, they weren’t. He didn’t know who those late-night revellers were, and he avoided looking too close. But when he passed through the kitchen, hoping that some of the servants might have gathered there, preparing breakfast and gathering stores, his heart sank. They were all there, the whole bunch of them, still tidying up from the banquet; they would’ve been planning to have their own feast once the celebrations were over, gathering the leftovers and mixing them up – Cookie hated her food going to waste. But she couldn’t complain about it now – not only had the food spoiled overnight, but she’d been struck in the back by a vine and cursed before she even realised what was happening, ladle raised in mid-swing at the fool who had dropped his plate...

About half of them had seen it coming, dropping their loads in shock, some starting to run for the door. None of them had managed more than a single step. It was unreal, seeing them all there, frozen like that. Especially as they’d turned green.

Eventually he forced himself to move on. Cutting through the mess hall (filled with more victims that he stopped himself from looking at) he made his way to the barracks. There he found rows and rows of soldiers and guards who’d turned in for the night transformed by the power of the curse even as they slept – they probably never even knew what was happening. He bowed and said a prayer for them, and all the others caught in this horrible curse, then climbed the stairs to the recruits’ floor.

Thankfully the recruits’ floor was empty – unsurprising, as they’d all been on guard duty that night. He couldn’t quite escape from the devastation, as one of those vines had burst through the floor and crashed through the ceiling, but at least he didn’t have unseeing eyes staring at him as he got changed.

He pulled his baggy blue tunic and grey trousers over his plain underclothes to provide at least some protection from the elements, but he would need to find some better armour before long if he was to assist in whatever the Marshall was planning – plain cloth was hardly any better than no protection at all. Strapping his gauntlets and greaves back on and fastening his shield to his left arm, he glanced at the cracked mirror and sighed – with only such a small part of armour on he was ridiculously vulnerable, but he had no choice. He wasn’t about to steal from a corpse, even if their armour hadn’t been transformed with the rest of them.

Now ready for duty, he made his way through the ruins of the castle and set out for Marshall’s office next to the Map Room. No doubt he would be there, gathering everyone to lead an evacuation or rescue mission or something. Then he could leave this place behind and stop thinking about-

The Marshall...

He’d been cursed. Just like everyone else.

And, since he’d had to break down the door to get in, he was clearly the first person to check his office. The only person to check. Which meant... he was alone. In the whole city, he was the only one left. Everyone else was...

He sank to his knees and wept. Well, why try and hide it – he bawled like a baby. But what did it matter? There was no-one there to hear. He didn’t need to try and put a brave face on for anyone. Everything, everyone was gone. It was all over.

Eventually he ran out of tears and his throat was too sore to continue crying, so he pulled himself together and got back up from the floor. This may have been his home for seven years, more than half his life, but there was no point staying here now. There was nothing left. It was time to move on. Maybe he should return to St Takashiro’s and tell them what had happened. After that... He’d decide what to do after that.

He took the Marshall’s keys and then saluted him, placing an arm across his chest and bowing formally, his last act as a soldier of the Trodain Royal Honour Guard to ensure that no-one could break into the armoury or the treasury. Then, leaving the Marshall’s office at last, he made his way to leave the castle. Forever.

On reaching the stairs though, he noticed a large shadow lumbering up the stairs, heading straight for him. He could hear the sounds of its claws scraping on the stone floor, and the deep echo of its breathing as it panted up the stairs. It was a monster!

He darted behind the wall, chest heaving as he struggled to calm himself down. He thought back to his training, but all he could remember was the Sergeant telling him that the best thing he could do in a fight was to throw himself at the enemy and hope his corpse slowed them down until a real soldier took care of them – not exactly encouraging. And now there was a huge vicious monster coming towards him, drawn by the evil curse that had destroyed Trodain. It must be a particularly fearsome beast hungry for blood to be drawn to the city so soon – normally large groups of people kept monsters away. But then... he was the only one left. So it was up to him to drive the monster off.

Closing his eyes, he took a few deep breaths to calm himself as much as he could, then leapt from his hiding place to confront the shadow.

\-----

A screaming figure suddenly leapt out from behind a wall, sword held aloft, ready to strike. Much to his embarrassment, Trode let out a yell of alarm and jumped back. To his surprise the figure flinched, jumping back in shock with another scream, this one sounding more frightened than the last. Trode yelled again and the figure came to an abrupt halt, looking down in surprise.

Now that the screaming rally was over, he took the opportunity to get a better look at his would-be assailant. And discovered that he was a mere boy, dressed in an oversized blue tunic and a pair of grey trousers, a pair of battered-looking gauntlets and greaves placed over them to form some modicum of protection. And, now that he looked closer, he recognised the blade as one of the blunt old training swords recruits were given to practice with.

“What the blazes do you think you are doing?” he demanded, getting over his shock. “This is no time for hide-and-seek! Have you not seen what has happened to my castle?”

The boy simply gave him a dazed look, glancing at his shadow then back at him, mouth opening and closing soundlessly. He was about to give the boy a piece of his mind, when he suddenly caught sight of his shadow. Following the sunrise light was streaming in through the window behind him, and with the sun still low in the sky his shadow had expanded and elongated until it appeared like a giant on the opposite wall. Given the circumstances he supposed he could forgive the boy for being jumpy. The Goddess knew he had been given a fright when he saw what had happened to his poor subjects.

“Come along now and help me with this” he commanded, gesturing towards the pot he was dragging behind him – youngsters like this one often responded better to an authorative tone. He had learned early on that one of the most important things for a monarch was to always look like they knew what they were doing – especially if they were as confused as the rest of them. “You do not expect me to carry this all by myself, do you?”

“S-S-S-Sire!?!” exclaimed the boy, not seeming to hear him.

“Who did you think I was? The cook?” Typical, the boy appeared to be a little slow...

“Well, Sire, it’s just that... you don’t... um, well, you don’t look like the King. I mean yourself” the boy stammered. “Er, I mean, how you normally look. I mean, you look, uh, different.”

“Whatever are you blathering on about? What do you mean ‘different’?” Honestly he did not have time for this!

“Well, uh, it’s just that, uh, you’re, um... Let me show you.” The boy removed the shield he had fastened to his shield arm and passed it to him. Deciding to humour the lad, if only so he would overcome whatever flustered him so, he had a look at it. He recognised the tell-tell signs of a recruit – the shield was so brightly polished he could see his reflec-

What?

Instead of his reflection, on looking at the shield he saw a small green-skinned figure the colour of sick, its face covered in wrinkles and missing its hair. The eyes were overly large for the creature’s small face, giving it a bug-eyed appearance, and its mouth was framed by large purple lips filled with crooked yellow teeth. He grimaced in revulsion... and so did the image on the shield.

For the second time that day his heart stopped, and with dread in his gut he rose his hand to his face. The image in the shield did the same. There was no doubt. It was... his reflection.

“AAAAAAAGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHH!!!” he shrieked, his cry of horror echoing throughout the castle. “I’m hideous! I’m a freak! I’m a **monster!** **NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!** He grabbed the offensive article and hurled it out of the nearest window with all his might, one of the few that had remained intact after last night’s calamity. Then the three of them watched the shield clattered to the floor below, a conveniently placed statue shearing the shield in half on impact.

“That was my only shield” the boy whispered mournfully.

And thus the cost of losing his grip on his emotions was already laid bare. He had already lost his castle and his people – this was no time to mourn his lost humanity. “Well, there is nothing else for it” he said briskly, trying to swiftly move on from his loss of composure. “We must locate this Dhoulmagus and force him to lift the curse; that is the only way to return me, my dear Medea and my kingdom back to normal.”

“You mean there’s a cure!? It’s **not** permanent? Things can go back to normal?”

“Of course there is!” he snapped, quite unreasonably, but then it had been a trying day – he could forgive himself for his lapse this once. “Whoever places the curse can remove it; it is simply a matter of finding them and... persuading them to remove it.”

“Thank the Goddess” the boy sighed with relief, crossing himself as he bowed in prayer. He envied the boy’s ignorance – he knew the task that lay ahead of them would be far harder than the simple premise he had described. However he would allow the boy to live in ignorance a little while longer – he had suffered enough today already. Tomorrow’s burdens would be here soon enough.

“The- the princess?” the boy said suddenly, opening his eyes and looking at him uncertainly. “W-what’s happened to the princess?”

It seemed that some of tomorrow’s burdens had already arrived. He was loathe to admit it, but eventually he gestured to his daughter beside him. “It appears this villain considers himself some sort of jester” he said bitterly. King Trode, turned into a miniature troll, and Princess Medea, turned into a mare; Dhoulmagus had a lot to answer for.

The boy stared uncomprehendingly, less disbelieving than confused. Well, transformative curses such as these were unusual, and he admitted that his daughter was hard to recognise in her current form. Ordinarily a slim and pale raven-haired beauty, she was now a horse – a fine specimen of a horse to be sure, with a pure white coat and a thick black mane, but still a horse. Watching his daughter try to come to terms with what had happened to her had been the most heart-breaking experience in his entire life. Even now she was struggling to get used to balancing on four legs instead of two, and trying to get her down the stairs with her hooves had been a tremendous challenge. He supposed it was only natural that the boy would find it hard to-

Eh? The boy... Just now his eyes had widened with recognition. But how had he- Well, there was no mistaking his Medea’s beauty, of course he recognised her. The boy’s mouth opened and closed several times, but no words came out and he simply showed his obeisance to her, crossing his arm over his torso and bowing low. His respect for the boy rose, and at that moment he was profoundly grateful to him for sparing them useless platitudes and meaningless questions.

“Why?” the boy croaked out.

Now that... that was the right question, the one question he could ask. Yet the only answer he had hardly satisfied. “A thief disguised as a jester sneaked his way into the castle last night. He was here to steal a magic artefact stored in our royal vault from before Trodain was founded” he explained, answering the unasked question. “Medea and I disturbed him during the theft, so he cursed the two of us out of spite, merely experiments to show off his power. I can only imagine he also experimented on the castle after we lost consciousness.”

“...an **experiment!?** ”

“Yes. None of this has any meaning, any reason; it is simply unnecessary cruelty to satiate that thief’s superiority complex. No doubt he intends to make his way in the world by cowing everyone with his newly acquired powers, maybe even rule over it, with my dear Trodain as an example of what would await any that refuse to pay him tribute. That is why it is essential we catch up with him – so that no other may suffer the same fate as my fair city.” And that no father may have to witness what he did last night, he added quietly to himself.

“On which note we had best be going” he added after a moment’s silence. “We must move with all haste if we want to catch this devilish ‘jester’. Boy, take the pot, and we will gather some rations for the journey from the kitchen on the way out.”

“Uh, Your Majesty?” the boy began as he started to make his way towards the kitchens.

“What is it?”

“Um, up ahead is blocked. The ceiling has fallen in. We’ll need to go to the ground floor first.”

He sighed. “Very well. Lead the way then.”

“Yes Sire” the boy crossed his arm across his chest and bowed, still remembering the proper etiquette around royalty in spite of everything. And when it came to take the stairs he offered his arm to Medea, doing his best to steady her as she clumsily made her way down even though a fall could crush him. Perhaps he would not be completely useless.

Walking to the kitchen was a grim reminder of what was at stake, not that he needed any encouragement on that front; his own transformation was bad enough, and the curse placed on his darling daughter intolerable, but walking through the mess hall and seeing so many of his subjects transformed into vegetation brought home the plight of his kingdom. Even the kitchen was filled with unfortunate victims of the curse, frozen as they were going about their duties with most none the wiser as to their fate.

Regrettably most available foodstuffs had been used for the banquet last night, and, with no-one left to prepare it, there were no snacks that he could help himself to. Fortunately the boy proved his worth once again – he happened to know the layout of the kitchen and its stores, and was able to prepare a few little somethings for breakfast. Porridge was not the most exciting of meals, he had to admit, but it was better than going hungry.

While he ate his porridge, the boy found some cushions for Medea so she wouldn’t have to sit on the hard and cold stone floor and brought out some vegetables for her to eat – sadly in her new state she would be unable to chew or digest any meat. Fortunately the boy had realised that and did not offer any, merely providing her with a selection of vegetables and fruit that horses were known to like – he even put them on one of the undamaged plates. When she struggled to work out how exactly she would actually eat without cutlery or even hands, he quietly and delicately picked up the plate and held it up to her, careful not to actually look at her and risk embarrassing her further. He was a good lad.

Unfortunately there was nothing either of them could do would make this experience less humiliating for his darling Medea. She looked as mortified as a horse could possibly be, and her eyes rolled alarmingly. Neither of them affected to notice her distress, the lad continuing to hold the plate steadily while looking into the middle distance, and for his part he focused on eating the porridge he had been provided – not the best he had eaten, but given the circumstances he could make allowances.

Gradually his daughter managed to calm down, coming to terms with the situation as best as she was able, and lowered her head so that she could pick up some of the vegetables with her teeth. Undignified, certainly, but what other option did a horse have? His heart went out to her, but he forced back the tears and continued to pretend to ignore her situation even though his porridge was long since finished. Every now and then the lad would place the plate back down to cut up one of the fruits for her, and Medea forced herself to eat it all. Who knew how long their journey would last after all?

Finally her plate was cleared, and the lad set about gathering provisions at his direction. They gathered them into two bags, but it soon became clear that the bags were too heavy for the lad to manage on his own. Therefore they went to the stables to avail themselves of a horse.

Only there were none to avail themselves of; the horses had been afflicted by the same curse as his subjects.

He was at a loss. He had always assumed that he would be able to take a horse to the nearest habitation before calling for assistance and rallying his remaining subjects to his aid. Now though... Now he was faced with travelling **by foot**. Which meant either he would have to forgo some of the provisions they would need for the journey, or...

First he needed to establish how far this curse had reached. Perhaps he might find a horse further towards the city outskirts that they could appropriate? He said as much, and his daughter and the lad followed his lead without question.

It soon became apparent that he could expect no help from the Helm Quarter – with the castle at the peak of the hill at its centre, the district had been hit the hardest, the cursed vines spreading everywhere. Roofs and walls had crumbled as the vines broke through them, and roads became impassable as rubble and yet more vines blocked them off.

Even after they finally managed to navigate their way out of the Helm Quarter, the Traders’ Ways were no better – all the main thoroughfares into the city had been taken over for the celebrations, and so had the majority of those gathered for the festivities. As if drawn by the people, the cursed vines had crashed into them, transforming all they touched and completely blocking off the roads. Eventually they had to forgo the Traders’ Ways altogether just to find a way out.

But neither the Lower Quarters at the bottom of the hill or the Outer Quarters on the city outskirts had escaped the destruction the curse had brought, and his final hopes were dashed when he found not even the farms had escaped the thorny vines. No-one had been spared, whether they had been partying in the streets or sleeping in their beds. Eating, drinking, dancing, fighting, kissing – no matter what they had been doing, his subjects had been frozen mid-action, transformed by the power of the curse, and all their animals with them. Including their horses.

“Well, there is nothing else for it” he sighed when they reached a hastily erected campsite, built by entertainers and travellers who had come on the visiting Helms’ heels for the celebrations, and found not even it had been spared the curse’s foul influence. “We will simply have to walk to the next settlement and acquire a horse there. Farebury is the closest town I believe – we can obtain aid there.”

“Farebury?” the laid exclaimed suddenly. “But Sire, our provisions... I can’t carry them that far!”

“Well you will have to. ‘Needs must’ as they say – we have no other option before us, so you will have to carry them.”

“But Sire, it’s too heavy! The water alone is too much for me, let alone-”

“Perhaps you did not hear me” he said, harder now. “We have no other choice. We need these provisions to last the journey, and you are the only one about to carry them. It would be preferable if we had a horse or mule or ox to bear the burden, but since we do not, we will have to make do with what we have – and that amounts to you. Now, do not prolong this any further than necessary, as we are already far behind this villainous Dhoulmagus and we have a lot of ground to cover before we can obtain more aid.”

“Please Sire, I can’t do the impossible! It was hard enough bringing our supplies this far, how could I make it to Farebury?”

“You will because you have to!”

“I can’t do what I can’t do!”

“Refusal is not an option! You must, and if you will not do it willingly then consider it an order!”

“But Sire, I can’t carry this and fight at the same time! How would I protect you from monsters!?”

“Well...” That was a valid concern, but there was no other option! Why could the boy not see that? “...You will simply have to put your pack aside during fighting.”

“Put my pack aside? Sire, I’ve been in monster attacks, and their ambushes wouldn’t give me enough time!”

“Arguing will do you no good! You will simply-” He was cut off by a loud snort, and they both turned at the sound. Wasn’t that a horse? But where-

Oh. Oh no.

Strangely enough the boy seemed no happier at the sight that he was. “Princess... Your Highness, are you certain?” His daughter, who of all possible creatures had been turned into a horse, gave another impatient snort and gestured to the wagon she stood next to. “I... I understand you want to help, but uh... your current ‘state’ is not your usual one. Just because you’re a horse now doesn’t mean you’re as strong as a horse. And not all horses are suited for pulling wagons. I mean, the other day-”

His daughter whinnied impatiently, rearing up a little before losing her balance and crashing back to the ground again. He and the boy both raced to help her, but the boy drew up short as soon as they saw she had regained her balance.

“You see Medea?” he told his poor daughter. “Although you may have been turned into a horse, you have not been a horse for long and you are not yet used to your new body. I know you mean well, but to offer to pull a wagon is foolhardy. Just leave the matter about supplies to us and we will soon have you restored to your lovely self.”

Medea shook her head, gesturing towards the boy and the large pile of supplies, then to the wagon and snorted again, firmly. Her meaning was clear, and yet he couldn’t understand. Why was she so determined to do this to herself? Didn’t she understand how much strain this would be on her body? Neither he nor the boy had asked it of her, so why had she taken it upon herself to perform such a lowly degrading task? It was... incomprehensible.

And yet, she was unyielding. Although it was harder now to read her emotions, her eyes were steady and firm in their gaze. And for some reason he found it difficult to argue with someone who could not speak, even though by rights he should have been at an advantage.

“Sire... I can’t carry our provisions by myself” the boy said quietly. He whirled to face him, an angry retort on his lips, but then he bit down on his tongue, hard. It was not the boy’s fault – he was simply stating the plain truth; carrying several days’ worth of food and water for the three of them was just too much for him to manage. And as much as he wanted to blame the boy for putting him in this situation, that was unfair and unreasonable. The Goddess knew that he had every right to be unreasonable after what he had been through today, but it was a poor monarch who blamed others for his problems. And besides, there was a far more culpable party to blame for this situation – Dhoulmagus.

And every moment they wasted here allowed him to get further ahead of them.

“I do not like it” he said at last. “To make my only daughter, who is more precious to me than anything else in this world, pull a cart like a common mule is more than I can bear. But...” He took a deep breath. “I said it myself: ‘Needs must’, and if my daughter is willing then I cannot deny her, as much as it pains me to allow it.” He was rewarded with a gentle nuzzle from Medea. “However, we will requisition another horse as soon as we are able!”

“Of course, Your Majesty” the boy agreed, saluting. “Thank you, Your Majesty. I assure you I’ll do all I can to make the Princess as comfortable as possible.”

“See that you do, or you will answer for it with your own hide!”

“Ah, yes Your Majesty.” The boy did a quick survey of the area, and soon found one of the smaller wagons that had not been destroyed or dismantled to form a shelter. Once he had located and familiarised himself with the harness, he then approached Medea and bowed once more.

“Your Highness, if you would permit me to, uh... place these upon you?” he asked, and Medea nodded and huffed her consent. However rather than proceeding the boy looked at her seriously. “Princess, if you feel the straps are too tight or uncomfortable, please let me know. Don’t try and hold it in or assume that’s just what horses put up with; things that might seem little now could become major problems in an hour or so’s time, and if you push yourself too hard you could get hurt. So, um, tell me, okay?”

He gave the boy a surprised look, but Medea nodded all the same, and the boy set about harnessing her to the wagon. “You seem to be familiar with horses” he commented, watching as the boy’s thus far awkward fumbling disappeared, and the straps were deftly fastened and the harness secured in place.

“Yes, well, I’ve had a lot of experience with them, horses that is, so I know how to take care of them. Royals and Helms I’m less familiar with, so I apologise for my rudeness earlier; I know my etiquette leaves a lot to be desired.”

“Frankly, there is a lot to be desired about the current situation – a momentary lapse is the least of our worries.”

“Thank you for your lenience, Your Majesty.”

Though, come to think of it... “You say you have little experience with Helms? But I thought you were a part of the Honour Guard?”

“I am, Sire. However I am from the Lower Orders – my entry into the Royal Honour Guard was granted as a special dispensation.”

A special dispensation? But the only one who would have had the authority to do that was... him, utilising his position as commander-in-chief of Trodain. But why would he have waived the bloodline requirements for the Royal Guard? Come to think of it, there had been a request-

A snort jolted him from his thoughts, and he looked up to see his daughter testing out pulling the wagon while the boy fussed over her, trying to ensure that there was no rubbing on her skin. He had fastened the harness over her blue blanket, which was attached to the wagon by two stout poles. The straps ensured that the weight should be equally distributed over her body rather than concentrated on her shoulders, and the boy was currently throwing out all unnecessary belongings from the wagon to ensure it was as light as possible. The boy kept the food already stored in it, for obvious reasons, and added their provisions, a couple of tents and the Alchemy Pot they had retrieved from the castle.

The boy had not questioned the addition of the pot to their inventory, and clearly had no plans to. Well, even if he was from the Lower Orders, the boy was earnest and loyal, and that was enough to start with. The rest he could work on. Considering the boy was currently his only surviving retainer, and a fresh recruit at that, much work needed to be done.

He only hoped it would be enough.

\-----

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you may have noticed, I have made a quite a lot of changes from the game; for starters, the game actually starts in media res - you only find out about the villain and what happened much, much later. But I couldn't write the following scenes without giving the whole thing away, so I decided to start the whole thing from the beginning.
> 
> Just as a heads up, I've also made the continents much larger - no more crossing the entire world in a couple of days. Makes sense in a video game, not so much in-universe. That means I've moved locations around a bit as the continents expanded to try and keep them in the same position relative to each other. It shouldn't make much difference, but it does mean that a lot more time will pass than in the game - one doesn't just save a kingdom overnight, after all.
> 
> Anyway, once again, please tell me what you think about the formatting, the description, the plot and so on, and let me know what you think about my interpretation of the characters. I've tried to be as faithful as possible, but we all have different interpretations so I may not have always got it right. If you see something that's wrong (typo, poor grammar, inconsistency, bad maths, etc) let me know and I'll try to fix it sooner or later. No promises on a quick response though.
> 
> Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoy!
> 
> PS: If anyone's wondering, Trode's freak-out and then sudden calm was inspired by Jak & Daxter 1 after Daxter realises he's been turned into an ottsel. I just felt it was too good a chance to pass up.


	3. First Encounter

Storm clouds were gathering over Trodain now. They’d gradually appeared in an otherwise cloudless blue sky directly above the castle, growing thicker and darker until they spread across the whole city. They cast a dark shadow over the capital, giving it a mournful air. He sighed; his home really was a cursed ruin now.

“Do not despair to see our home as it is now” King Trode said quietly, making him jump. “Remember, we shall return my beautiful castle to its former glory and free my citizens from this foul curse, as soon as we find this wretched Dhoulmagus and bring him to justice. No curse is permanent, remember that.”

“Yes, Your Majesty” he nodded obediently, forcing himself to look away and continue over the hill, the capital disappearing from sight, at least temporarily. “Um, I’ve noticed a strange lack of monster activity, Your Majesty.”

“Yes, I imagine the dark powers that were unleashed upon my capital last night may have scared them into hiding – they may be dark creatures themselves, but that does not mean that they have nothing to fear from creatures darker than- My word! Whatever has happened here!?”

Down below they suddenly caught sight of the bridge they had been aiming for, one of the few that crossed the deep gorge to east of Trodain. A large wooden bridge built wide enough so that a caravan’s wagons could cross it, a stone guard post built at either end so that the toll could be collected. Normally it would’ve been busy with travellers and merchants, but right now it was deserted. Not just deserted, abandoned – not even the guards were in sight, and the bridge looked a complete wreck. Planks had snapped and fallen into the gorge, ropes had frayed and ripped away, leaving the bridge looking decidedly unsafe. But this was one of the main thoroughfares of the kingdom! How could it be so badly damaged!?

“I see” the King muttered once they had arrived at the bridge, hopping off the wagon for a closer look. “The monsters must have had a greater scare than I had anticipated – I imagine they stampeded the bridge to put the gorge between them and whatever cast such foul magics last night. The bridge was damaged not long ago in that last storm, and the higher flow of trade in preparation for my daughter’s engagement did exacerbate the situation. I was going to come down and inspect the bridge later this week to see what repairs could be made, and whether it would be worth upgrading to a stone one. Unfortunately, that will have to wait for now.”

“More importantly, where are the guards? They are supposed to protect the bridge in times like these, and I had expected them to remain at their post regardless what happened at the capital.” King Trode paused a moment. “Then again, considering the bridge was rushed by an unprecedented number of monsters without warning and in the middle of the night, I suppose one can understand why they would flee in terror. Indeed, their flight may have saved their lives. Still, it is such a pity – I had hoped that I would be able to call upon their service, but it was not to be.

“No matter, let us continue. This is the only place to cross if we intend to make for Farebury, so let us make haste and waste no more time here.” King Trode paused and glanced at the bridge again. “That is, let us proceed with all due caution, and not place too much strain on the bridge, lest it collapse beneath us.”

“Yes, Your Majesty” he said obediently, leading the way and testing the strength of the wood. The Princess followed, walking gingerly with the very real fear that the bridge might collapse under her weight, pulling the wagon behind her. King Trode walked behind her to place less strain in one place. The wood creaked and groaned, but fortunately the bridge continued to hold and they gradually made their way across, taking care to avoid some of the more damaged areas.

“’old it right there!” yelled a gruff voice, and he almost jumped with fright – that wouldn’t be good for the bridge though, and he managed to contain it. Looking up, he saw a big burly scruffy figure standing at the other end of the bridge. He was holding a big axe, and he was blocking their way. “Who gave ya permission ta cross my bridge, eh? If you wanna cross, you gotta pay my toll!”

“Not even a day, and already bandits are closing in” King Trode growled. “Vicious vile vultures, closing in the moment a man is down, ready to give him a kick to keep him there. Petty parasites, the lot of them.”

“What do you want?” he called, thinking of more practical matters.

“What do you think you are doing!?” the King snapped, but the bandit was already answering.

“Well, this being the only bridge an’ all, I reckon... fifty coin should do it. Per person. ‘orse an’ wagon cost extra.”

“We can’t afford that!” he exclaimed.

“No pay, no way – you gotta cough up the dough if you want my permission to cross.”

“Permission? PERMISSION?? YOUR bridge lies within MY kingdom, you oaf!” King Trode roared. “And as it is in **my** kingdom, so this bridge is **mine** , and I will cross it whenever I please! You should be paying **me** for the use of my bridge! If only my guards had remained at their post, we would not have to be dealing with this stupidity.”

“Wot you on about? A creepy ol’ codger like you, a king? Don’t make me laugh!”

“Creepy old codger!? I see your manners are as vulgar as your face! Yes, **I am** the King! And who exactly do you think YOU are, stopping me from crossing and insulting me like this?”

“I’m glad you asked” the bandit answered, a smug smile spreading across his face. “’earing my name is enough to make anyone wet their pants! That’s right, yer talkin’ to none other than Yangus, the legendary bandit ‘imself! Ferocious ‘n’ fearless, me very name strikes terror in people’s ‘earts, an’ makes strong men quiver in their boots.”

“Yangus?” King Trode echoed, glancing at him. Jay could only shrug his shoulders in response – he’d never heard the name before either.

“The one ‘n’ only!” the ‘legendary’ bandit Yangus confirmed. “Time to cough up! You’re gonna ‘ave to pay if you wanna cross my bridge!”

“Well, the ‘one-and-only’ Yangus, it is a pity that there are not more of you, for there is only one of you and three of us” King Trode replied scornfully, a mocking smile on his lips. “Now, kindly remove your ‘one-and-only’ self from MY bridge and clear off!”

“Don’t push yer luck, you green-faced freak!” Yangus snarled.

“However I see no reason why I should get involved in such a petty affair” King Trode continued. “One should be sufficient for the likes of you. Take care of him.” Oh no.

“Y-your Majesty?” he stammered.

“Come along now boy, snap to it! We have wasted enough time here already. Deal with this brute and we will be on our way.”

Goddess help him, the King expected him to fight the bandit. Him, a raw recruit who had never won a practice bout, against a seasoned and professional bandit. A bandit who was a lot broader and more muscular than he was, and had at least twenty years on him. This would not end well.

Yet... what else could he do? He was the sole escort for the two royals – he could hardly refuse to fight, nor could he disobey an order. Pleading would get him nowhere – he’d wanted a chance to prove his worth, to be a hero defending the innocent... Well, here was his chance. Goddess help him.

He glanced at the two royals one final time, the King beginning to look impatient and the Princess gazing at him confidently, then swallowed and made his way forward. He took a few deep breaths and tried not to think about the inevitable agonising pain of the iron axe biting into his flesh before he died; no matter what followed, he was a member of the Trodain Royal Honour Guard, and he would die to protect his sovereign. He would not show his fear – he would die with honour and prove himself worthy of his post.

The bandit smirked at him, an evil glint in his eye – he could clearly see his fear. Now that he was closer he could see the bandit was bare-chested except for his ragged fur jacket made from the skin of an animal, and he wore a baggy pair of blue trousers fastened with a red sash. Two long scars formed a cross on his left cheek, and there were more scars on his chest and arms. Even with a strange spiky green hat over his shaved scalp, he looked very intimidating. “I’m warnin’ you, you don’t wanna get on me bad side; just give up an’ you don’t ‘ave to get ‘urt.”

“I am a member of the Trodain Royal Honour Guard” he whispered as he drew his sword, trying to keep his voice calm. “I will not disgrace their name.”

“Oy, oy, not you too. Right bunch o’ nutters I got this time. I’ve got ‘alf a mind t-”

“Get on with it boy!” the King yelled impatiently. “Clear the ugly brute out of our way so we can get on with our journey; we have more pressing matters at hand than dealing with this filth.”

“That’s it!” the bandit growled. “I would’ve let you go if you’d kept your gob shut ‘n’ paid up, but if ya wanna do this the ‘ard way, I’m more than ‘appy to oblige ya.” And with that the bandit charged across the bridge, raising his axe ready to swing.

Sending one final prayer to the Goddess, he levelled his sword at the bandit, spreading his feet apart and lowering his body into the stance the Sergeant had taught him. He just wished he knew more than the stances. The bandit was coming straight for him, feet pounding on the wooden slats, and he braced himself for impact.

Then the bandit leapt into the air, as high as his barrel-shaped frame would let him. Instinctively he jumped back as the bandit brought the axe swinging down, the blade slicing through the air where his head had been moments earlier – thankfully dodging was one of the things he was good at. He raised his sword to block the inevitable follow-through, knowing that the bandit would most likely go for his head again with an upward sweep, ready to jump back if he swung for his feet instead-

But the second blow never came. As the bandit landed the sudden impact of his heavy frame put too much strain on the damaged bridge. There was a loud cracking sound as the wooden logs forming the base of the bridge split apart and the bandit plunged straight through the hole that he’d created in the boards beneath him. Reacting faster than he’d thought possible, the bandit flipped his axe round and sunk the hook of it into another of the logs.

He backed away from the hole as the bandit struggled, staring in astonishment. He couldn’t believe what had just happened; he wasn’t dead – he was still alive! He had actually survived a proper fight! Although he hadn’t won in any conventional sense, he could walk away from it and that had to mean something! Thanks be to the Goddess!

“Well, well, well, it looks like justice is served” King Trode crowed triumphantly. “ **That** will teach you for stopping me from crossing **my** bridge. Come boy, let us leave this scum to his fate. We should cross while we still can.”

His Majesty was right – the bandit’s struggles were beginning to push the bridge to breaking point. Already the remaining ropes were beginning to pull lose from their moorings, and in some places where the ropes had been damaged they were threatening to snap. They needed to move quickly.

He sheathed his sword, turning to the Princess as she quickly pulled the wagon across the overstretched bridge, abandoning their earlier caution so that they could get off the bridge as quickly as possible. He and King Trode pulled the wagon to the right, just about tilting the wagon enough so that wheels went over the hole. They didn’t quite make it and the back wheel caught on the edge of the gap, but with the three of them they managed to pull the wagon back up onto the bridge and run to safety on the other side. It was lucky the wagon was mostly empty or they’d never had made it.

Of course their struggles only weakened the bridge even more, the pounding of the Princess’ new hooves followed by the wagon bouncing along in her wake breaking nearly all planks covering the base of the bridge and putting further strain on the frayed ropes. Now they were safe they turned back to look at the failing bridge, the bandit still struggling to haul himself back out of the hole. He managed to grab hold of the guide ropes, but his sudden weight caused it to snap in half with a resounding crack, and finally the bridge fell apart.

Somehow the bandit kept hold of the rope he’d grabbed, clinging on for dear life as the bridge snapped in half and crashed against the side of the steep cliffs of the deep gorge. Whole sections fell into the gorge, bringing rocks and boulders with them as they tumbled down the side of the cliff until they splashed into the river below.

“Well, it seems that he got his just desserts” King Trode gloated as he started to leave. “His attempt to attack us now leaves him dangling from the very bridge he intended to stop us from crossing. Any moment now the moorings will give way, and he will either be bashed to pieces on the rocks below or drown in the river, depending on whether he survives the fall.” He gulped at the King’s words. That sounded a pretty nasty way to go. “It is a pity about the bridge though – there is no other crossing this side of the gorge. I will have to have it rebuilt when we get back. And I shall build it in stone – wood and rope bridges are simply too flimsy.”

At that moment the mooring began to give way, and instinctively he dove on top of it. The weight of the bridge began to pull him towards the edge, and he quickly twisted around and dug his heels into the ground, scrabbling for safety. Thankfully the rope started to get lighter rather quickly, and he realised that the bandit must be cutting off all the other pieces tied to the rope. And just in time, as he was almost at the cliff edge before he was able to get a purchase on the ground.

Getting back to his feet he pulled on the rope, walking back until he reached the wooden post that had supported the bridge for so long. Fastening the rope around it before he lost his grip, he then started pulling the rope up, gradually hauling the bandit to safety.

“What are you **doing** , boy?” the King demanded, appearing by him so suddenly he almost dropped the rope. “He just tried to kill us! Why on Empyreus are you trying to save him? He has got what he deserves, why risk your life trying to save him? Just leave him – it is his just reward for his crimes. Why, it is poetic justice! Nay, it is **divine** justice, brought about by the Goddess’ own hand! Why do you not just leave him be? Answer me!”

As much as he would’ve loved to have answered the King, not only was it taking all his strength to pull on the rope, but he actually wasn’t sure what his answer would’ve been. After all, the bandit had tried to kill him and only failed because of bad luck. What would stop him from trying again now that he was worn out and unable to protect the royals? And even if the bandit didn’t attack them, wouldn’t he attack others, stealing from some and killing more? Could he rest easy knowing that by saving this bandit’s life he had caused the suffering of dozens, maybe even hundreds, of innocent victims.

Yet, somehow, he didn’t feel he could just leave someone to die like that. If he let someone die, knowing that he could have prevented it, he knew he’d regret it for the rest of his life. Even if that person was a bandit who’d tried to kill him moments earlier. As for what would happen when the bandit was back on solid ground... Well, they’d cross that bridge when they came to it. Figuratively speaking, of course – he’d had enough bridges for now.

After what seemed like an age, the bandit finally reached the top of the cliff, and he pulled him back to safety. There they both collapsed on the grass, panting from the strain of the last few moments. He could feel his arms trembling, and he just knew that his muscles were going to be sore tomorrow, but right now that didn’t matter. The important thing was he’d done it – he’d just saved someone’s life. He was a hero. At last.

“Thank you guv’nor.” He glanced up, feeling too weak to sit up properly, and to his astonishment he saw the bandit on his hands and knees bowing down before him. “I thought I was done for” the bandit said hoarsely. “I dunno ‘ow I can thank you. You saved me life. I owe you, guv, I owe you big time. I dunno ‘ow I can make it up to ya, but I will. An’ to prove I mean it, I swear, ‘fore the Goddess an’ all, that I ain’t gonna be a bandit no more; I’ve ‘ad it wiv that game. I wanted to get out well back, but now I’ve got a reason to stick wiv it. I’m gonna change, turn over a new leaf, be different. You saved me, an’ for that I’ll follow you. I’ll be your man, no matter what. Gimme this chance, please.”

“What is the world coming to?” King Trode sighed. “Yangus, was it? I’m glad to hear of your change of career, but as far as we are concerned you can show your gratitude by getting out of our sight – you have caused us enough trouble as it is.”

“Yer ‘avin' a laugh” the bandit snorted.

“What? Still here? If you will not do us the favour of leaving voluntarily, I will be happy to provide some encouragement.”

“Shut it! I ain’t talkin’ to you, I’m talkin’ to the guv!”

“‘Guv’? What is this nonsense? Are you a complete imbecile? This boy is my retainer! If you are in anyone’s service, it is mine!”

“I said I was talkin’ to the guv, an’ I meant wot I said! **‘e** was the one who saved me, not you, so put a sock in it!” The bandit, now former bandit, turned back to him. “Please guv, what d’you say?”

His mind went completely blank. He had no idea what to say. But... how could he turn down such a heart-felt appeal? “Uh, sure, if you like, but it really isn’t necess-”

“Thanks guv!” He suddenly found himself being engulfed with a bear hug that nearly choked him. “Thanks so much. I can’t tell ya ‘ow much this means to me. I’ll be your man, I will. Until the end, I’ll-”

“‘Put a sock in it’ _?_ ” King Trode echoed, so outraged he’d temporarily lost the ability to speak. “Who do you think you are, speaking to me you... you... good-for-nothing scoundrel! And you!” King Trode whirled on him, and he immediately snapped to attention. “What are you doing, making decisions like that without my authority? Do not start getting ideas above your station! You are my retainer, remember! You serve **me!** ”

He flushed bright red. “My humblest apologies, Your Maje-”

“DON’T YOU TALK TO THE GUV LIKE THAT!” Yangus roared. “’e saved me life, an’ if you think I’m gonna let ‘im be ordered ‘round by you, you’ve got another thing comin’!”

“I shall do what I like, you barbarous buffoon! I am his master, and if you do not like it you can **buzz off!** ”

“Yeah? An’ why should I listen to you, bug-eye?”

“Because I am the King of Trodain and I will take no more of your insults! Be off with you!”

“You? A King? Don’t make me laugh, you stuffed-up overgrown toad. The only thing you’re king of is a pond!”

“Toad!? TOAD! I’ll give you toad, you unwashed pig! If you think you can stand there and...”

Completely dumbfounded by the situation he was in and unsure how to deal with it, he decided the best thing to do was ignore it and hope it sorted itself out, collapsing back onto the grass and blotting out the argument from his mind. A snort caught his attention, and he looked up to see the Princess looking over him with concern.

“Oh, sorry! I didn’t think – that run must’ve have been awfully painful!” he exclaimed, getting up and only staggering a little bit. “I’ll have the harness off in just a moment.”

The Princess snorted in response and... did she just roll her eyes at him? “Uh, you’re saying you’re okay?” The Princess nodded. “Are you sure? Pulling the wagon behind you so fast must have been an awful strain...” Yes, she definitely just rolled her eyes at him. “Well, if you say so...” That nod meant she definitely did say so.

Hang on... what she saying now? She nodded her head towards where her father and the ex-bandit Yangus were arguing, and then gestured to the road. Wait... “You’re saying... we should get a move on?” A nod. “But His Majesty isn’t-” An impatient huff. “You can’t mean... We can’t leave without him!” he whispered, aghast. Two more impatient huffs, and the Princess started pawing at the ground. “...You mean... Is that an order?” Yes, she was definitely rolling her eyes at him. “Well... Okay, if you say so.” For some reason it felt stupid to argue with a horse.

They started to get underway, and he helped himself to some water to steady his nerves. After a few deep breaths he was almost fully recovered, when he noticed the Princess looking at him. “Sorry, it’s just... a lot happened at once.” ...Why was she still looking at him like that? What had he- Oh!

“You want to know why I saved him, right?” She nodded. It was really difficult having a conversation with a horse. Or was that obvious? “Well... I’m... not sure.” She huffed at him. “Hey, I’m being honest here! It’s true! I... don’t really know what made me do that. I didn’t have a whole lot of time to think, you know? It’s just... he seemed so helpless, dangling on the end of the rope like that. And I know that he’d just tried to rob us and kill me, but... just leaving him like that... It just felt wrong. Does that make sense?”

She snorted non-committedly – that was probably a shrug.

“Maybe not. But... if you were dangling on the end of a rope, wouldn’t you want someone to do everything they could? Maybe I just wanted to try and save someone, just once.” The Princess snorted. “You’re right, I’m being silly. But it worked out, right? Now we have someone else helping us, and we need it.”

“Wait! Wait I say!”

“Hm? Oh, Your Maj-”

“What do you think you are doing, leaving me there like that!” King Trode demanded, panting with the effort it had cost him to catch up with them. Yangus was there too, the two of them apparently abandoning their argument until they could catch up. “Well? Who gave you the order to move out?”

“The Princess, Sire.”

“The Princess?” King Trode echoed, glancing at her as she snorted her confirmation and nodded. There was a small pause. “Very well then, carry on” King Trode said, climbing onto the wagon.

“Yes, Your Majesty” Jay nodded, gesturing to the Princess and she began walking on again.

“Er... guv? Princess?”

“Ah... right.” How was he to explain this? “Well, it’s a bit complicated. You see-”

“An evil sorcerer broke into my castle last night and cursed my daughter and myself, transforming us into our current condition, and then the entire castle” King Trode broke in. “The three of us are the only survivors.”

“Alright, it’s not complicated, just difficult to believe” he admitted.

“Er, yeah” Yangus agreed.

“Well, that’s the long and the short of it. The... er... ‘wagon driver’ is actually His Majesty King Trode, ruler of the Kingdom of Trodain – the curse is responsible for his current diminished stature.”

“...you sure?”

“Quite sure. I agree, he does not look like...” How to put it? “...his former self at the moment, but I can recognise his manner and his voice. It’s him.”

“...You really sure?”

“...Put it this way. Does he look like a King now?”

“No.”

“That’s the idea.”

“...I getcha. Sorta. And the Princess?”

“The sorcerer’s idea of a joke: Princess Mare-dea, if you like.”

“...Right. I getcha. And you? What you doing with these two?”

“Me? I’m a recruit and sole surviving member of the Trodain Royal Honour Guard – I’m their escort until we can rally more to help us.”

“...’elp you do wot exactly?”

“Didn’t I say? We need to lift the curse, both on the royals and on the city, and to do that we’re going to find the sorcerer cast the curse and force him to lift it.”

“Oh. …Okay.”

“R-really? I mean, you seem to be taking this pretty well. I thought you’d find it harder to believe.”

“Don’t get me wrong guv, I ain’t sayin’ I believe the ol’ codger over there’s a king an’ the ‘orse is a princess. All this talk o’ curses and wot not – I try an’ steer clear o’ mystic stuff, so I ain’t got a clue ‘bout any o’ that. Wot I’m sayin’ is it don’t really matter: I swore I’d be your man no matter wot, an’ I’m gonna stick by that, whether we’re savin’ a cursed kingdom or followin’ a deranged an’ oponionated toad.”

There was an indignant squawk from the wagon, but Jay ignored that for now. “...I see” was all he was able to make out at first. But, in fairness, he could hardly blame Yangus’ reaction. “Well, fair enough, I guess – it’s a lot to believe from a stranger. But I hope that, someday, you’ll believe in us? That our driver is the King and the horse his daughter and Princess?”

“Anythin’s possible, I guess” Yangus said doubtfully, and he sighed. That was probably the best he could hope for.

“Fine. Well, thanks for not running for the hills or anything; Goddess knows we need all the help we can get right now. Forcing this sorcerer to lift the curse isn’t going to be easy, and we’ve got to find him first. Having someone to help with setting up camp and fighting all the monsters is a gift from the Lady Herself.” Yangus practically beamed, eager to prove himself.

“You needn’t worry about the monsters in these parts too much” Yangus said confidently. “They’re small fry. I’ll see ‘em off for ya.”

“...Don’t see them all off” he said after a moment’s thought. “I’m just a recruit, so I need to get some battle experience. Actually, I could really do with some guidance too...”

“Leave it to me guv!” Yangus cried enthusiastically. “If there’s one thing I know from all me years, it’s ‘ow to fight. We’ll make a proper man outta ya, never fear!”

“Boy?” called the King, interrupting them.

“Yes, Your Majesty?”

“If memory serves, there is a small grove in the forest up ahead where we can camp for the night. You have been there before on a training exercise, have you not?”

“Yes, Your Majesty. If we follow this path it will be on a left-hand branch in the middle of the forest, surrounded by a small stream. I’ll know the turn when I see it.”

“Very good. Lead the way then, we must make good time if we are to arrive before nightfall.”

“Yes, Your Majesty” he bowed, quickly moving to take position at the front, Yangus following behind him. “Right, once we arrive we’ll need some firewood to cook dinner and set up the tents. How about you set up the tents and collect the firewood?” he suggested to Yangus. “I’ll make sure the Princess is in good condition and prepare dinner after that – you’re used to handling yourself on your own out there, I’m more familiar with horses and cooking, so it makes sense.”

“Even ‘orse-princesses?” Yangus teased.

“Well, Princesses less so, but horses yes.”

“Sure thing guv, it’s fine with me. Whatever you say.”

“Thanks. Uh, and please, call me Jay; Guv just doesn’t feel right.”

“Sure thing guv.”

“Um... thanks. And, um, welcome to the party.”

\-----

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you can see, I've made a few changes, trying to develop a little more on why such an important bridge is in the state it's in, show Yangus' reaction to the group and answer (a little) as to why Jay acted as he did - I'll return to that later. I'm still not entirely happy with Yangus' monologue or the collapse of the bridge, but I think I've done the best I can for now.


	4. The Welcoming Party

“That’s it guv, you got the idea” Yangus nodded, calling an end to their morning practice.

“Right” Jay panted, sheathing his sword and returning back to where the porridge was cooking. They couldn’t go far for sword practice, not only to keep an eye on the breakfast but also to protect the campsite from any monsters that weren’t daunted by the fire they’d lit. The Princess had kindly kept watch so they could focus on practice, but they had to be nearby to respond if she did spot anything, so that had meant they had to practise their fighting **quietly** so as not to wake the King. Something that was more difficult than it sounded.

“You ain’t never been shown the basics ‘fore now, ‘ave you guv?” Yangus commented.

“Well, I’ve had practice sparring” he said defensively, but Yangus waved it aside.

“Sparrin’ don’t mean much ‘less you know the basics, an’ understand **why** yer doin’ wot yer doin’. You’ve got the instinct guv, but you dunno ‘ow to act on it, that’s wot’s ‘olding you back. That an’ wot you **do** know’s more ‘bout duellin’ than fightin’, an’ they ain’t the same thing. There ain’t no point in ‘oldin’ back in a fight for yer life, so none o’ this bowin’ or avoidin’ weak points – just go fer it! Just keep practisin’ wot I showed ya, an’ when you’ve got the ‘ang of that I’ll show ya a few more moves you can use.”

“Right” he nodded. While a few of Yangus’ moves weren’t suited to him, Yangus being a lot squatter and more muscular than he was, some of the stuff he’d taught him had been really useful. If only the Sergeant had taken the time to show him earlier, he might not have been such a disaster during training. “I’m going to have to work on my stamina too” he winced, feeling several muscles complaining from overuse and his sore feet ache from the walking they’d done yesterday.

“You ain’t bad for a city fella.”

“I’m supposed to be a guard, not a ‘city fella’, and you don’t seem tired at all.”

“Surprised, eh?” Yangus chuckled, patting his hand on the large belly that pushed against the sash round his trousers. “I mebbe a mite bit ‘eavier from me early days, but there’s a whole lotta muscle under this.”

“I can tell” he winced, feeling some of the bruises from their spar.

“Don’t worry guv, you’ll toughen up soon ‘nough – nothin’ like bein’ on the road fer a bit o’ muscle-building” Yangus chortled, patting him on the back hard enough that he nearly fell into the fire.

“Well, talking of strength-building, breakfast is ready.”

“Awright! Me two great loves – fightin’ ‘n’ eatin’ ‘n’ drinkin.”

Wasn’t that... Never mind. “Well, I hope you enjoy it.”

“It’s more than I’m used to, so don’t worry about that guv.”

“Oh, about that – could you please not call me guv? It feels wrong...”

“Sure thing guv.”

He sighed, but decided it wasn’t worth pursuing at the moment, so they dug into their breakfast and ate in tired but content silence. “So guv” Yangus began once they’d finished. “Who’s this bloke we’re after?”

“His name’s Dhoulmagus” he started, clearing up the breakfast things and washing them in the brook that encircled the glade. “All we know is that he’s a sorcerer who disguised himself as a jester in order to sneak into the castle during the festivities and steal the magic sceptre, one of the kingdom’s ancient artefacts. His Majesty says he mentioned something about ‘making them pay’, and we believe he intends to use his magic powers to take over the kingdom, but we don’t know where he’s gone or when he’ll make his move. But when he does, we’ll be ready.”

“Take over the kingdom?” Yangus echoed incredulously. “One man on ‘is tod? ‘ow?”

Wasn’t it obvious? “By pointing to what he did at the capital of course!”

“Oh, right. So, er, wot did ‘e do at Trodain?”

“I told you, he-”

“Yeah, yeah, he put a curse on the kingdom and transfiggureighted the royals, I get that – but ‘ow? That’s wot people are gonna ask, right?”

“Oh, right. Well, uh... he used magic? ...Honestly, I don’t know. All I remember is, I was going about my patrol when this... this vine appeared around the corner behind me. My partner let out a yell, I spun round and saw the vine heading towards me, lowered my spear at it and then: **_WHAM!_** Next thing I know, it’s morning, my partner’s been turned into a plant and I’m the only human left in the capital. Not a great day.”

“When was that?” Yangus asked hesitantly, and he realised he was shaking and quickly put down the bowls before he dropped them into the river.

“Oh, that was yesterday.” Which meant it was really hard to forget all he had seen that day, and the fate of everyone he knew. Everyone, even-

The sound of hooves startled him from his thoughts, and he quickly scrambled to his feet. “Princess, you’re up! Would you like breakfast?” he asked as the Princess as she trotted over the brook. She shook her head and continued into the trees. “Uh? Princess, where are you going? Do you need any-”

She glanced at him, and immediately he knew exactly what she wanted. “My apologies, I’ll leave you in peace. I’ll have breakfast ready on your return.” He bowed and she nodded politely, then withdrew into the trees.

Following her departure, he finished the washing up and prepared a plate of vegetables for the Princess’ breakfast, occasionally checking on the porridge to make sure it didn’t turn to mush before the King ate it. He chose to ignore the fact Yangus was trying not to stare at him – he guessed his conversation with the Princess might be hard to understand for someone who didn’t know her and her situation. And maybe some who did.

“...So guv, if you didn’t see this Dhoulmagus fella cast the curse, then ‘ow do y’know it’s ‘im?” Yangus asked at last.

“Their Majesties confronted him in the Secret Chamber after finding the two guards he’d attacked” he explained, grateful for the opening. “Unfortunately they were unable to prevent him from stealing the magic staff, which boosted his powers and allowed him to cast the curses on them and the city.”

Yangus sighed. “I dunno guv. I just can’t get round the ‘ole ‘one bloke destroys a city, ‘specially a city as big as Trodain’. I mean, it just don’t seem possible.”

“And yet, Trodain is destroyed” he said quietly.

“Well, yeah” Yangus said awkwardly. “But still... I just can’t get me ‘ead round it.”

“Nor can I, and I was there.”

“...Still, I ain’t that bright, so there’s lots of stuff I can’t get me ‘ead round” Yangus said brightly, probably trying to cheer him up. “I mean, I can ‘ardly believe a guy like you works for an old codger like ‘im. But I guess people could say the same thing ‘bout me workin’ for you.”

“I guess” he smiled weakly.

“Old codger? I do hope you are not referring to me” came a voice, and he immediately jumped up and snapped to attention.

“Wotcher granddad, ‘ow are ya? You sleep alright?” Yangus greeted cheerily. He winced – Yangus was trying to be friendly like he’d asked, but he just knew that the King would-

“I am **not** your granddad, or anyone else’s for that matter, and you would do well to remember it!” King Trode snapped. The King probably would have liked to continue but he broke off, taking a deep breath and turning to him instead. “We need to set out as soon as possible if we are to catch up with that villain Dhoulmagus – he has enough of a head start on us already, and our progress yesterday was less than I would have liked. When do you think you will be ready to depart?”

“Actually, Your Majesty, we’re mostly ready” he answered, gesturing to their tent which had already been packed up and was waiting to be stored in the wagon. “I’ve already prepared breakfast, so once I’ve cleaned up our things and you’ve completed the Rite of Purification we’ll be ready to leave.”

King Trode looked momentarily taken aback. “Ah, well, very good. If you could be so kind as to-”

“Certainly, Your Majesty.” Following King Trode’s gesture he quickly fetched a bowl and ladled out some porridge, serving it to the King as he seated himself somewhat uncomfortably on a log. The King ate without comment, but hopefully it was to his satisfaction.

“Another bowl, Your Majesty?” he offered as the King neared the end of his bowl.

“Will there be enough for you?”

“Oh don’t worry about that, we’ve already eaten.”

“What!?”

“Your Majesty?” Why did he look so furious all of a sudden?

“You have already eaten, hm?”

What a strange question. “Of course, Your Majesty.”

“Of course?” the King echoed incredulously. “And **why** would you consider this appropriate, pray tell?”

“Why, we always eat breakfast before you, so that we can get things ready for when you wake up.”

“‘Get things ready’?”

“Yes, like lighting the fires, preparing breakfast, laying the table and so on.”

“...I see. Very well then, continue as you were.”

“Wot?” Yangus piped up at last. “Wot are you two goin’ on about? We got up first an’ the guv cooked brekkie, so ‘course we ate it when it was ready – we’ve been sparrin’ so we need the energy like. If you wanna eat wiv us you should’ve gotten up earlier.”

The King huffed. “I do not see why I need to explain myself to **you**.”

“’Cos I ain’t ‘appy wiv the way you treat the guv!” Yangus snapped.

“How I treat the ‘guv’? Whatever are you talking about?”

“You’re pushin’ ‘im around and snappin’ at ‘im when ‘e’s the one who does all the work! Wot gives you the right, eh?”

“That is because the boy is my retainer, and as such it is his job to cater to my and my Medea’s-” King Trode broke off and started looking around wildly. “Wait a moment! Where is Medea? Where is my precious Princess?”

“The Princess left a few moments ago” he answered.

“And you let her go on her own!?” the King demanded furiously.

“Well yes. I did ask if she needed any assistance, but she asked me not to follow.”

“Asked you? She’s a horse! She can’t speak!”

“Well, she looked at me and snorted when I offered to help, so she clearly didn’t want me to come with her, and I obeyed her wishes.” The King and Yangus both looked at him, baffled.

“It’s true though, the guv did ask, but ‘e backed down when the ‘orse looked at ‘im” Yangus added helpfully.

“‘Horse’? **Horse!** You will address my daughter as Princess!” King Trode thundered. “Bah, I do not have time for this! Which way did she go?”

“That way” he pointed, gesturing out of the grove they were camping in.

“Then come on, follow me.”

“Your Majesty, are you sure this is really necessary? The Princess was most adamant that she wanted to be alone.”

“Do you not know how dangerous it is out there?” the King demanded. “She could be attacked! Kidnapped! Killed!”

“But Your Maje-”

There was a rustling from the bushes and suddenly three blue blurs jumped out from them. He drew his sword, but Yangus had already batted one of them aside with a thick branch and was laying into another before he had a chance to face his opponent. Heart hammering, he looked over the point of his sword to see-

A blue tear-shaped blob.

By the Goddess, really? A Slime? He could defeat those things when he was eight, and that was with a wooden sword! He’d panicked for nothing.

A few blows from his sword were enough to finish the Slime, and by that point Yangus had dealt with the other two as well. He was surprised they had even bothered attacking; the camp was in a grove often used to train recruits for the Royal Guard for the rigours of campaign and to practise their fighting skills against any monsters in the area, so any local monsters should have known better. The Slime races in particular were normally smart enough to stay away – a few of them had even learned human speech and tried to barter or beg for food.

“They were probably desperate” King Trode commented, seeing his confusion. “The sudden influx of monsters from around the capital has most likely upset the natural balance; the Slimes are smart enough to know that food will become scarce, and may have been concerned that they would become prey for the stronger monsters. Desperate times call for desperate measures, and there are only a few of us and we are lightly armed – they must have thought it worth chancing, even if it would likely lead to their deaths. Which is why it is so important we find my Medea before something happens to her! You have no idea what could be lurking out there!”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

Thankfully at that moment the Princess reappeared, probably drawn by the sound of combat. “Medea! There you are!” the King cried with relief, running over and embracing her. Well, given their difference in height he could only embrace her leg, but gesture was obvious. The Princess meanwhile looked at him in confusion.

“His Majesty was concerned for your wellbeing.”

“Yes, you must not scare me like that, wandering off on your own! Whatever were you thinking? Surely you know the dangers of being alone in monster-filled territory?” The Princess looked away, avoiding eye contact with any of them. “Well?”

“Ah, Your Majesty?” he interjected. “I believe the Princess wished to attend to some personal affairs that best called for privacy.”

“Well I trust that she knows her safety is much more important than her ‘personal affairs’.” The Princess snorted loudly at the rebuke.

“Yes, Your Majesty, but certain concerns do call for privacy, and I am certain the Princess would have called for us if she needed to” he replied, the Princess nodding emphatically at his words.

“And what call for privacy could possibly compel her to leave the safety of the grove and risk herself so?” He hesitated, glancing at the Princess for permission. She huffed a sigh, nodding reluctantly, and he leant over and whispered the answer to the King. “Oh. Ah. Right then. Well, nevertheless... safety is important. However, given the circumstances, I suppose... Do not stray too far, Medea, and call for us the moment you are in danger regardless of the circumstances, understood?”

The Princess whickered her acknowledgement, even bowing as close as she was able.

“Very well then. Have you had breakfast?” The Princess shook her head. “I have just started mine, and you are very welcome to join me. Did you sleep well?”

“Well, the ‘orse-princess is back” Yangus commented as the two royals made their way back over the brook to the safety of the grove, doing his best not to snigger at their awkward exchange. “I s’pose we’d best be goin’ then.”

“Yes, let’s pack the tent back in the wagon” he agreed. “Once Their Majesties have finished the Rite of Cleansing and I’ve washed the breakfast things up we’ll continue east along the road.”

“You know there’ll be loads more monsters where those slimes came from. It ain’t gonna be an easy trip” Yangus warned. “Though when they see granddad any sane monster will run a mile.”

“I heard that!” the King yelled, in the middle of picking up his abandoned bowl of porridge. Seeing that reminded him of the Princess’ meal, and he quickly set about cutting up some fruit and vegetables for her while Yangus and the King continued with their argument.

“We have a long journey ahead of us” King Trode stated stiffly once the Princess finished her breakfast. “It is of the upmost importance that we reach Farebury quickly. Every moment we waste idling our time away here is another moment my poor kingdom suffers under the weight of that vile villain Dhoulmagus’ curse; we must reach Farebury with all due haste.”

“What will we do when we get there Your Majesty?” he asked, gathering the remaining breakfast things to wash in the brook.

“There is a Guildmaster there who might be able to tell us who this Dhoulmagus is and where we can find him. He used to be the Royal Guildmaster and a friend of mine, and is still a Friend of Trodain as well as both Guildmaster and Navigator of Farebury. I am certain he will help us as soon as he hears of the situation, and given his extensive knowledge of mages in the region he may know who this Dhoulmagus fellow is. With his magical might on our side I am certain we can overcome that wretched thief no matter how powerful he is.”

“If he was a Friend of Trodain how come he didn’t come to the banquet? I thought all the dignitaries of Trodain were invited.”

“His son died recently after a long and bitter illness, and he did not feel ready to face such a jubilant crowd. I regretted not being able to see him when he sent his apologies, but I am glad for it now, otherwise he would have been cursed with all the others. I dread to think what we would do without him.”

\-----

It should have been a relief. Five days after leaving the training glade, the furthest east he had ever been, and a week after the tragedy that had befallen their capital, they had arrived at Farebury.

And he had been relieved, at first. The last five days had been tough; every day he trained with Yangus for an hour after doing his sword exercises, half an hour in the morning before breakfast and half an hour in the evening after they’d set up camp, doing a mixture of strength exercises, speed training and sparring. He could honestly say he was improving, but it was tough on top of his duties setting up camp and cooking their meals, as well as a day’s walk and part of the night watch. Thankfully the monsters that hunted in the area weren’t particularly strong, especially on such a well-travelled trade road like this one, but their clothes were a flimsy defence against monsters and the battles began to add up.

All this added to the pressure of being the sole retainer and guard for the Royal Family, when Farebury finally came into view it was as if a huge boulder and fallen off his shoulders. Once again evening had started to fall, and the sky had turned a fiery red as it set behind the distant hills. They had been pushing themselves hard, especially the Princess, travelling as long as light would allow. King Trode had not even allowed them to stop at the villages on the way, insisting they make their way to Farebury as quickly as possible, so he had been looking for a suitable place to camp as they crested the hill when there it was: surrounded by rolling green plains punctuated by little clumps of trees and encircled by thick woods, the town of Farebury. At that moment, bathed in the orange light, the town was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Only one thing spoiled it – a large plume of smoke rising from the town into the blood-red sky.

With Farebury so close they had put on an extra burst of speed before the sun finally sunk below the horizon, entering town just as night was beginning to fall and people started to make their way to their beds. However, as they made their way into town through the Traders’ Way, he couldn’t help but notice the suspicious glances of the townsfolk, whispering darkly to one another as they shot suspicious looks at them. Or rather, not at them, but at the King where he sat on the wagon holding the Princess’ reigns. Those looks made him uneasy.

However the King didn’t seem to be bothered, and he had heard that all small villages were suspicious of strangers. Still, this was a town, not a village, and nearly all merchants coming from north-western Trodain passed through it – surely they would be used to strangers, right? The Princess seemed uneasy too, and kept moving her head to try and keep everyone in view; if she were really a horse he would have called her skittish. Yangus didn’t seem bothered by the looks, but then his hand was resting on the club he’d fashioned himself from that oaken branch he’d picked up in the training glade, so maybe he was uneasy too.

Making their way out of the unsettlingly quiet streets they passed a smouldering ruin on the corner of the town plaza, a dog outside softly whimpering on what had been the front step; this must have been the source of all that smoke earlier. It was hard to tell now, but it looked like it had been a surprisingly grand wooden building, probably two or three-stories high. It must have been very old and important, left in the centre of town like this. He wondered what it could have been.

Leaving the charred ruin behind them, they walked under a large stone bridge, one of two that stretched around the town. Branching off from the hilltop plaza, one led to the church while the other led to the pub, the two most essential places in any community as George had joked. The bridges curled round from the hilltop plaza to the town walls in a large loop, small steps periodically connecting them with the other streets, providing a quick walkway through town from one end to the other. He’d never seen anything like it, but he supposed that wasn’t saying much.

“Ah, it is good to be back amongst civilisation, even if it is only a small town” the King sighed, a blissful smile crossing his face. Unfortunately the effect was rather unpleasant in his new form, seeming more hungry than relaxed. “Right then. You two go and find Guildmaster Rylus; as both Navigator and Guildmaster of Farebury, he should not be hard to find. Be on the lookout for some accommodation for the night while you are searching and reserve a room for me. In the meantime, I will wait here with Medea and keep her company whilst you look. Do not be too long about it; it may be summer, but it still gets cold quickly at night, and I do not want Medea to catch a chill. The Good Lady knows all this sleeping outdoors cannot be at all good for my darling daughter’s health.”

“Yes, Your Majesty” he bowed, before hastily straightening as he realised people were watching. “Uh, Your Majesty, would it be better to wait in a less public place? We seem to have attracted a bit of a crowd.”

The King glanced at the crowd, uninterested. “Oh, there are always curious onlookers – no doubt they have not seen someone of my stature before. No matter, it does not bother me.”

“Are you sure? I mean, they seem a little-”

“Did you not hear me? You are wasting time – bring Guildmaster Rylus to me and be quick about it!”

Yangus looked like he was going to give Trode another piece of his mind, so he grabbed his hand and gave a small bow before hurrying off. He would have liked to have removed the Princess’ harness before he left, as it was surely heavy and sore, but the King was impatient to meet Guildmaster Rylus and begin the search for Dhoulmagus, so he left the plaza hastily.

“Uh, guv, where we goin’?”

So hastily that he hadn’t thought where they were going. “Ah. Er, I... don’t know” he admitted, coming to an abrupt stop. “Uh, where would a Guildmaster live normally?”

“Probably in the grandest ‘ouse in town. Granddad said ‘e was Navigator as well as Guildmaster, so ‘e’s gotta be rich – ‘specially if ‘e used to be some bigwig up at the castle.”

“So, shall we head for the top of the hill? We should be able to see everything from the upper plaza.”

“Sounds good to me guv.”

“Uh, could you please not call me that?”

“Sure thing guv.”

He was too tired to get into that again, so he headed for the stone bridge and followed it to the upper plaza. The town was an impressive sight, stretching out down the hill below them, the river that snaked along the protective wall shimmering in the moonlight. It couldn’t compare to Trodain of course, but it was still beautiful – a lovely landscape moment. Unfortunately it didn’t reveal the location of Guildmaster Rylus.

They were looking round for a better viewpoint when they suddenly spotted the Mages’ Guild, a building surrounded by a small park that was less for relaxation and more a safety gap between the mages’ headquarters and the rest of the town in case anything exploded. Cursing himself an idiot for not thinking to look for the Mages’ Guild earlier, the two of them set out for the building.

Only to find it locked up tight.

“Strange. I thought the Mages’ Guild was supposed to stay open in case of magical accidents or emergencies” he murmured to Yangus. “I wondered what’s going on?”

“Ah, orders mebbe orders, but that don’t mean people are always gonna stick to ‘em. I reckon the fellas on duty ‘ave probably skipped out to get a drink or summink.”

“I doubt it. The Mages’ Guild is pretty hard on those who break the rules – you could find your magic sealed before you could say ‘Hocus Pocus’, not to mention all the fines and punishments they and the local authorities can put on you. The Sergeant told us all about them when we enrolled, telling us the punishment for not registering our ability to use magic and so on.”

“Sure, but the reason punishments are there is ‘cos there’s always someone who breaks the rules, an’ I reckon this place ain’t no different.”

“Hey there! Are you looking for a mage?”

He looked round at the sound of the voice, and saw the herbalist bringing the last of his stock indoors for the night. “That’s right. Do you know where they are?”

“Most of them were helping with that blaze earlier. They’ll have either gone home for the night to recover or they’ll be in a private room at the pub, drinking their sorrows. Either way, they’ll all have sore heads in the morning. Take my advice lad, if it’s not urgent come back the day after tomorrow – they’ll have their minds on other things tomorrow.”

“Thanks for the advice!” he called back gratefully, and the herbalist waved an acknowledgment before heading back indoors. “Well, I suppose we head for the pub then. They may be weary, but I doubt they’ll begrudge giving us directions to wherever Guildmaster Rylus is. He may even be there with them.”

“Excellent thinkin’ guv” Yangus chuckled, rubbing his hands together with glee. “An’ while we’re there, we may as well ‘elp ourselves to a drink or two, eh?”

“Let’s find Guildmaster Rylus first” he sighed.

The pub wasn’t hard to find, placed on the edge of the plaza as it was, as far from the Church as possible so to avoid its disapproving gaze. Unsurprisingly it was as busy in the evening as the Church was at dawn. However the mood was strangely sombre, with most inside nursing their drinks quietly. Quite a few were crying into their drinks, and none of them looked in the mood for conversation.

Disconcerted, they head for the bar. As they got close, they could hear the immaculately dressed barman addressing a figure slouched over a drink at the bar. “That’s enough for tonight Master Kalderasha.” The man muttered something in response, to which the barman looked at him sharply before answering “I’m sorry Master Kalderasha, but I can’t keep giving you free drinks. You don’t attract the same amount of business anymore, and you’re drinking into my profits!”

The man snarled something back, but the barman had noticed them, and after saying something quietly but firmly to this ‘Kalderasha’, he turned and greeted them. “May I help you gentlemen?” he asked, though he hesitated at gentlemen, his eyes lingering on Yangus.

“I hope so” he replied, keeping his voice low as several people looked up from their drinks to stare at them. “We’ve been looking for the Navigator, Guildmaster Rylus. I don’t suppose you could tell us where he lives, could you?”

“N-Navigator Rylus?” the barman stuttered as the pub fell silent, obviously taken aback. “Haven’t you heard?”

He sat down on a bar stool. Somehow, he had a bad feeling he’d need it. “Heard? Heard what?”

“I’m afraid that the Navigator is no longer with us. He died in a fire at his house earlier today.”

 **No!** It couldn’t-!

He took a deep breath and clapped his hand to his mouth before he said something stupid. He remembered seeing thick black smoke rising from the town, and the smoking ruin that they walked past. It couldn’t be... That was the fire he’d died in? That was the house he’d lived in? Had they really only just missed the one man who could help them? By only an hour or two? Was the great mage Guildmaster Rylus, Greater Helm and Friend of Trodain and Navigator of Farebury and their one hope for salvation, now dead that very afternoon?

Belatedly he remembered himself and crossed his arms and bowed in his seat, the barman returning the holy gesture as they both said a prayer for the dead man. At the same time he sent a plea up to the Goddess for Her help, asking that She might show her favour on them and guide their path to the salvation of Trodain and its people.

Eventually he reopened his eyes, gradually realising that the quiet murmur of conversation had started again and that Yangus had taken the stool next to him and was nursing a pint glass now half-empty. Seeing him finish his prayers, Yangus pushed a second glass towards him, but he pushed it aside. “Yangus, what are we going to do now?”

“I don’t know guv, I really don’t” Yangus said slowly. “But, we’ve done wot we can. We should let the ol’ codger know, an’ then we can talk about wot-”

“Ah-ha!”

They both glanced up as the man the barman had been speaking to earlier gave a small cry and jumped up from his seat. A tall, mysterious-looking man with a mane of long black curly hair and a thick moustache, he suddenly advanced and loomed intimidatingly over him. He brought his face close, his big nose red with alcohol and his breath reeking of booze, and stared at him with eyes as black as his hair.

“Stop! Wait a moment! Give me your hand!” the man cried, snatching Jay’s hand and staring at his palm. “Yeeesss, Yeeeesssss. I can see many things here, **great** things. Your future unveils itself before me, the Great Kalderasha. I see danger coming to someone you know, very soon. Great danger, and only you can-”

There was a loud crash, and everyone whirled round to face the pale youth bursting through the door into the pub as he shouted “There’s an ugly green monster in the lower plaza, near Guildmaster Rylus’ house! You gotta come see!”

Everyone rose and rushed to door, demanding the monster be run out of town. Soon only he, Yangus, the barman, the serving girls and the Great Kalderasha were left, staring at the door. Yangus was the first to break the silence. “Ugly?”

“Green?” Jay added.

“Monster?” Yangus finished. They slowly turned and looked at each other, panic in their eyes, then rushed out of the door.

\-----

As soon as he got to the upper plaza he could see that it was serious. Crowds of people were heading down to the lower plaza, and not just those from the pub. He could hear snatches of conversation and shouted phrases as he passed them, and the more he heard, the more worried he became. As well as the general fear of monsters and the need to protect their children and home, their grief over the death of their Navigator that afternoon was quickly turning to anger, and there was only one person who matched the description this anger was being aimed at: King Trode.

He and Yangus raced down the steps of the Monarch’s Way to the lower plaza, but as they got close they saw that a horde of people had gathered, all pushing and shoving to get a view of the ‘monster’, blocking the way through. There was no point trying to shove past them, so he turned down an alley to try and find another way through. Leaving Yangus trailing behind, he ran to find other entrances into the plaza. But every time he found crowds of people in the way, stopping him from getting through – or more importantly, preventing the King and Princess from escaping. What was he going to **do**?

King Trode found himself surrounded by a sea of angry faces. At first there had only been a few people whispering and pointing, whom he had gallantly ignored, realising that he must not draw attention to himself while in his current condition. However the numbers had grown, and he had started to become a little nervous. He was not **frightened** of course, but he did not like the way they were looking at him, nor how their quiet whispering had grown in volume.

He climbed inside the wagon and started looking through their things, making a proper inventory of what they had. Not because he was **intimidated**. Of course not! It was just something that needed to be done, and it was better to find out sooner rather than later. Their food stores were running low of course, and they had little in the way of proper equipment for the boy and his companion to defend themselves with – something they would have to remedy shortly. After all, how could one have a proper escort when they had no armour, and only one of them had a proper weapon? Thankfully he could expect a better and more numerous escort once Guildmaster Rylus came to his aid. It was not that he did not appreciate the boy’s dedication and effort, but he was only a recruit with little training or experience, and not at all appropriate to a man of his stature. And as for that brutish fellow – he would be lucky if he didn’t find himself placed in the stocks!

Speaking of those two, where had they got to? Surely it should not take as long as this to find Guildmaster Rylus? No doubt the boy was having some trouble convincing Rylus’ servants to let him past – he did not look particularly convincing as a soldier or an emissary, and that was if he had the sense to leave Yangus outside. He should have ordered Yangus to stay here. Not because he wanted his protection – the mere idea was ridiculous – but the man was very obviously a bandit and his presence would undoubtedly bring suspicion on the boy’s story, delaying things even further when he was anxious, or rather impatient, to speak with Guildmaster Rylus. As Navigator he could certainly sort that crowd out, and as a Guildmaster his explanation of the curse would be believed.

It was not that **he** could not deal with the situation if necessary, of course, but he did not want to cause a fuss. A lot of people were gathering, and he really did not want to have to reveal his current condition to quite so many until the curse was lifted. It would be humiliating.

No, it was much better to wait for Rylus. Only, he was taking an awfully long time...

Jay had an idea. Just as Yangus was catching up, puffing hard from more running than he was used to, Jay started running again. Yangus stopped, wheezing from the effort, but had just enough breath to call “Guv, you’re goin’ the wrong way!”

But he didn’t stop. He knew where he was going. And after a few turns there they were: stairs up to the stone bridge.

Climbing the steps two at a time, he ran back to where the bridge overlooked the town plaza. Dear Goddess! How many people were there? It seemed like half the town had turned out, forming a large ring round the wagon. He’d never be able to get through that lot! What was he going to do?

Fortunately the townsfolk had kept their distance from the wagon, thank the Lady, as if they were afraid of what King Trode might do. Still, they were already hurling abuse at him, and he could tell it was about to turn ugly. He had to think of a plan to get the King and Princess out of that mob before that could happen.

Only, how? He was only one youth, and there had to be at least a couple of hundred people down there! And if Yangus still didn’t believe his story, how could he convince an angry mob? Goddess help him, what was he going to do?

Not wanting to go outside, King Trode had started to update his journal of the events of the last few days, writing up his notes on the few monster skirmishes they’d had when he suddenly realised that he could hear a great commotion from outside. It was slightly muffled by the wagon, but it was clearly hostile, and Medea was beginning to become agitated, shifting about anxiously and straining against her harness.

He climbed out and went to comfort her, but suddenly the yelling and abuse got much louder. Startled, he turned to face the crowd, but was taken aback when someone cried “Ew, he’s hideous!”

He was so shocked words failed him, and he just stared at them in disbelief. And that was when he began to realise just how many of them there were, and just how ugly the mood had turned. Goddess help him, they thought him a monster – and he knew all too well what humans did to monsters.

Even as he thought this the mob grew louder in their abuse. But it wasn’t just names now; they were throwing rotten fruit, sticks and even rocks at him. Fortunately he had always been light on his feet, and he was able to dodge the first few. However he was surrounded and without cover, and the crowd showed no mercy; he was hit several times by hard rocks, a tomato split across his face and a few others had stained his cloak. One rock struck him on the head, and he fell to floor, stunned.

Suddenly he heard a loud whinny, and he looked up to see Medea charging past him, using the wagon to protect him. But that would leave her exposed! Even as he thought this, some of the fruit hit her and stained her gleaming white coat, and a few stones bruised her flanks.

Fortunately the locals were less keen to hurt a horse than a monster, no doubt because they thought his daughter would be worth a lot of coin. But this reserve would not last long, and then he would be lynched, if he wasn’t torn apart first. And worse, his Medea would be sold into slavery, with no-one aware of her true identity. She would be forced to work as a horse until the day she died, and there was nothing he could do. Goddess help them!

Dear Goddess, they were throwing rocks at the King! He had to do something, now!

But what?

Oh Goddess, the King and Princess were completely surrounded by the mob – even if he did manage to break through the crowd and reach the wagon, he’d be lynched as soon as he did. And that was the best-case scenario! As it was, his chances of getting past the mob were-

That was it! It wouldn’t be easy, but if he did it right, he might be able to get the King and Princess out of there before it was too late!

Pushing Yangus aside as he finally caught up, he raced back to the Traders’ Way and the smouldering ruin he’d passed earlier. Crossing his arms in the holy symbol and praying to the Goddess for forgiveness, he snatched some clothes from a nearby stall as he passed and ran to the ruins of Guildmaster Rylus’ house. Praying for forgiveness one last time, he pressed the clothes into the glowing embers and blew on the embers.

The dry wool clothes soon caught fire, flaring up and burning brightly. He then took the burning clothes and used them to set fire to the nearby stalls. Finally, to finish the job and get things really going, he grabbed an unattended oil lantern and threw it onto the clothes stall. The fire roared and quickly engulfed the stand, setting the entire thing ablaze, and thanks to the dry weather it wasn’t long before the fire began to spread to the other stalls and houses nearby.

That was the easy part – now to reach the wagon. Grabbing the bewildered Yangus as he finally caught up again, he ran back to the plaza. Dear Goddess, don’t let him be too late.

This was it, there was nothing more he could do. King Trode had fought off the hands that reached under the wagon for him, crawling closer to Medea, but against the power of the mob all he could do was hide beneath his daughter. This was truly the lowest moment in his entire life.

The mob was forced to keep their distance from Medea’s hooves and mouth, but there were too many. It was only be a matter of time before she was overwhelmed, and then it would be the end for both of them. Goddess grant that his capital and his people be restored somehow, and that order would hold as they discovered the royal family was missing. They would never know-

“ **FIRE! FIRE!** ” Despite the chaos, those dreaded words immediately caught the mob’s attention. Silence fell instantly as the townsfolk froze and turned to the source of the cry. Sure enough, a plume of smoke was beginning to rise from the direction of Traders’ Way.

“My stall **!** ” someone shrieked, and as one everyone turned and hurried towards the fire, he and his daughter forgotten in the panic. Bad enough that the town depended on the market for its livelihood, but if the fire spread to the rest of Farebury...

As the mob ran to the fire out in a desperate attempt to put it out before it destroyed the town, two figures shoved through the crowd: his escort, **finally**. Yangus picked him up unceremoniously and threw him into the wagon.

The wagon bounced along the cobbles as Medea galloped along Traders’ Way, opposite to the direction of the fire and the way the mob had gone and towards the gates at the other end of town. “Stay down Your Majesty” the boy hissed as he struggled to right himself, before calling out “Let us through, let us through! There’s a fire at the market, we need to get our goods to safety!”

“How bad is it?” one of the guards asked as they unbarred the gates, pushing them open as quickly as they could.

“It’s pretty bad, we need all the help we can get!” The boy was a natural, he could hear the fear and despair in his voice.

“Goddess blast them, didn’t they put out the last fire properly!?” one of the guards cursed.

“We have to go help, the mages were all worn out from the last fire! I reckon they won’t be able to put it out on their own!”

“Someone needs to guard the-” their leader began, but he was immediately cut off.

“My sister lives near the market, I’ve got to make sure she’s okay!”

“Alright, alright! Close the door first, then you can go.”

And so they heard the door shut behind them and the bar slam into place as they rushed out of Farebury and galloped into the night. With the guards now leaving for the market no-one would be able to follow them, and even if the guards, distracted by the fire, recalled two men leaving the town with their wagon, those two men would not be connected to the ‘monster’ with a horse. It was over. He was safe.

\-----

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Those of you who know the game will see that I've taken a few liberties here, but I wanted to develop why the townsfolk reacted the way they did to Trode's appearance and the impact that had on him. I also thought the escape from the mob in the game is a little underdeveloped (you literally walk around until you find an opening, watch the locals throw stones at him, then walk out the town gates with him. A bit underwhelming) so I took a little dramatic licence and gave Jay the bit with the fire to liven things up a bit. But mostly because I had this image of Jay constantly leaving Yangus behind and rushing off again just as Yangus caught up.
> 
> I'll develop more on the consequences of this action in the next and later chapters, but rest assured this little escapade in Farebury doesn't come without cost, either for the town or for the party. And as for the bit at the beginning of the chapter, just where did you think Medea went before the beginning of the game?
> 
> One final thing - rather than experience points (a useful game mechanism, but one I found doesn't work in real life so well) characters in this story learn and improve their fighting skills through practice and training rather than just fighting - that's why Yangus is showing Jay the ropes in learning how to fight, otherwise this story would end very shortly. I'm also developing on the practicalities of travelling long distances a bit more, as well as some of the cultural aspects of the world they live in.


	5. The Seer’s Centre

Once out of sight of the town walls they took shelter in a small clump of trees that would hide them from the road. By now night had well and truly fallen and the moon was high in the sky, casting a ghostly light through the branches of the trees, the only noise their heavy panting and the insects. They had not stopped running since they had started from the plaza. There had been no challenges or angry shouts, nor had there been any pursuit, so it appeared they had managed to slip away successfully.

“I’m so sorry. Are you alright?” came the boy’s voice

“I have been better, thank you” Trode answered bitterly. However as he emerged from the wagon the boy was only just turning at the sound of his voice – the boy had been talking to Medea, not him. It was good that he was concerned for her welfare, but it was **him** that the townsfolk had been attacking, not her. She had only been injured when she stepped in to protect him. Which led to one very obvious question:

“And where were **you** , might I ask? You certainly took your sweet time! Whatever took you so long? I could have been killed!”

“I’m sorry Your Majesty” the boy apologised, not meeting his eye. In fact he focused on brushing the fruit stains off Medea’s back and unharnessing her. “We came as quickly as we could.”

“As quickly as you could!? It was OVER by the time you got there! If it hadn’t been for that fire I’d be DEAD right now! Because you weren’t there **my daughter** had to protect me and got hurt! She shouldn’t have to do that, she’s a princess! Protecting us is **your** job, and you did **nothing**!”

“We couldn’t get through.”

“Oh, you ‘couldn’t get through’. Well, that makes it all better then, doesn’t it? I can’t expect you to protect me if you’re not around; I’ve got to protect myself, haven’t I?”

“We got you out, didn’t we?” Yangus cut in, finally catching his breath enough to come to the defence of his ‘guv’. “Jus’ be grateful we were close; if we ‘adn’t ‘eard wot was goin’ on and got there in time, you’d be dead.”

“You only came once the mob had gone! It was only because of that fire-”

“Well the fire was the guv too, weren’t it? If it ‘adn’t been for him, there wouldn’t ‘ave **been** a fire and they wouldn’t ‘ave left!”

“Eh?” Had he understood that correctly? Yangus’ speech was coarse and frequently vulgar, and hard to understand for one used to the more refined and formal form of Empyrean. However just because he was used to Greater Empyrean did not mean he could not understand Common, and he was fairly certain that Yangus had just said ‘If not for the boy, there would not have been a fire’. Which begged a single question. “What does he mean by that?” he asked quietly, turning to face the boy.

Silence fell over the clearing as they looked at the boy, watching him tend Medea’s cuts and bruises as they waited for him to respond. Even Medea turned her head and looked at him as best as she was able. And yet the boy did not answer for some time, strangely reluctant to elaborate.

“It was the only thing I could think of” the boy said at last, once he ran out of horse-flesh to examine. “There was no way we could have pushed through that crowd. Even if we had, we wouldn’t have been able to get out again, not against that many. So I had to find a way to distract the mob, get their attention. I was looking to the Goddess for guidance when I saw the smoke from the ruin near the marketplace. I figured that if there was a fire everyone would run to put it out before it spread, especially so soon after the last one. After I – Goddess forgive me – set the stalls alight, all I had to do was shout fire and wait for the mob to clear. I was hoping that we could leave in the chaos before anyone noticed.”

Medea nuzzled the boy in thanks while he looked at him thoughtfully. The boy’s hands were shaking – he was still in shock. And, come to think of it, the boy was as green as green could be –Goddess have mercy, he was a recruit still learning the basics of combat! Putting him in charge of his security was too much to expect for such a youth. And had the boy not seen the danger, requesting they move to a less public spot, before he had sent him away? No, the boy had done the best he could, and by the Goddess’ grace, he had succeeded in his duty. He could not fault him. His ire was born from fear: fear for his own life and fear for his daughter. And while this was the closest he had ever come to death in all his years, that was no excuse to take it out on the boy.

“I see” he said at last, once he had taken a few deep breaths and was more inclined to rational thought. “That was well done. Through your actions, you have saved my life, and that of my daughter. Thank you.”

“You honour me, Your Majesty” the boy replied, but the way he said it was too unthinking to be a genuine response – the boy was just saying what he thought appropriate. As a matter of fact, he seemed rather troubled by something. He exchanged a look with his daughter, and she gestured towards the sky. Of course! Over the past week he had learned the boy was very religious. This would necessitate some careful wording...

“Do not concern yourself about the fire” he began, causing the boy to look up in surprise. “The Goddess is merciful and understanding. Rest assured that She will understand your reasoning – do not believe She will shun you for what was born out of necessity. I do believe that it was probably the only way to save our lives, and given the number of townsfolk on hand to tackle the fire I doubt it did much damage. In fact, I feel I see the Goddess’ hand in you, balancing the town’s books for their poor Hospitality with the very act you used to rescue us.”

The boy shuddered. “Thank you Sire” he whispered, sitting down heavily and beginning to pray. His daughter gave him a grateful nod, and to his surprise so did Yangus; they must have both been worried about the boy.

Now that his primary concerns had been dealt with, he felt the anger that he had pushed aside bubbling back to the surface. This time though he had a more deserving target. “Those villagers, how dare they attack me! Do they not know who I am?” he asked rhetorically – he knew full well that was impossible. But he needed to vent his anger out of his system in a safe manner or he might find himself blowing up at the boy again, and blaming his subjects for things out of their control was the sign of a poor monarch.

“I am King of Trodain! I should be treated with respect, not hounded out of town. They should be **honoured** to be in my presence. I may not look like myself anymore, but that is no reason to throw stones without any provocation. Whatever happened to the code of Hospitality? Well, I have learned my lesson. I will not be going anywhere near these uncivilised superstitious little villages again. **You** go deal with them. I will stay out here and sleep in the wagon.” He never wanted to see another lynch mob like that ever again, nor place Medea in a situation where she could not run for freedom.

“Yes, Your Majesty” the boy acknowledged, bowing where he sat, while Yangus muttered something that he chose not to hear – getting into an argument was not what he needed right now.

“Right, well then.” Feeling a little calmer now that he had got that off his chest, he brushed himself down, wiping the fruit off his cloak as he rebuilt his composure. “Now that tonight’s excitements are over, we best return to the matter at hand. Did you manage to locate Guildmaster Rylus? Why was he not there to pacify that unruly mob? If there was ever any reason for concern, I would have expected Guildmaster Rylus to be the first person they would turn to, considering his position as the Navigator of Farebury as well as his status both in Trodain and in the Mages’ Guild.”

“Ah!” The boy blanched. That did not bode well. “Well, uh, the thing is, um...”

Oh by the Lady, he did not have patience for this! “Well come on boy, out with it!”

“Well, uh, you see, um...” Yes? “He’s dead. Died in the fire this afternoon. Sorry.”

He felt like someone had just punched him in the gut. If he hadn’t already been sitting down, he would have been unable to stand. “ **WHAT!!!!** **DEAD!!!** ” The boy flinched from his outburst, and he hastily lowered his voice. “How did this happen!? When!?”

“From what we were told, it sounds like that the plume of smoke we saw earlier was his house burning down, with him in it. The burnt-out ruin we passed was his house. That was why they were so jumpy this evening – they blamed you for his death.”

“This is **terrible**. This is **disastrous!** How could this be? He was our best hope of locating Dhoulmagus, the one I could rely on above all others!” he wailed, and Medea let out a small neigh of anguish. Poor old Rylus, dead, so soon after his son. And in such a manner! At least he could be certain that the Goddess would welcome him with open arms – he might have been an irascible old grump at times, but his passion for teaching magic, his steadfast loyalty and tireless work for the kingdom would certainly draw Her favour.

But oh, how he’d miss his old friend; a man who had dedicated his life to make the world a better place, a man who had seen the world as he had, a man who had shared his hopes and dreams, a man who had understood the pain of the loss of his wife and helped him overcome his despair, a man who understood the joys of children...

He would miss him.

But now was not the time for despair. Or perhaps it was, but not for him; he needed to be strong, for his daughter, and for his kingdom. If he allowed himself to lose hope, then this small group of theirs would fall apart and his kingdom lost forever. And that was something he could not allow.

Once he had restored his composure he turned to the others. “This is a grievous blow” he said solemnly. “Guildmaster Rylus was not only a very talented mage with a great understanding of the laws of magic, nor just an outstanding Navigator to Farebury or faithful Friend to his country, he was a good friend of mine. I will miss him.

“But all is not lost. Although this makes our task all the more difficult, we can still lift this curse. We will just have to scour the length and breadth of the country until we find that fiend Dhoulmagus. It will take time, but we can do it; a man with his ambitions and power will not be hard to find, and there will be others willing to help us.” Who they might be he did not know, but saying that they were not alone might be of some small comfort. “This is not the end of our journey, merely the beginning of our quest to restore our kingdom and save our people. We have suffered a setback, but all such quests hit problems when they first start out.” Not one of this magnitude perhaps, but he needed to remain positive so that the others could have hope. “We shall not fail them. We will persevere, and we will triumph, no matter long it takes.

“Nevertheless, it would most likely be for the best if we moved on” he sighed wearily. “There is little point to linger here waiting for someone to find us now Guildmaster Rylus is gone. Let us be off from this wretched place, and on with our journey. We have a lot of ground to cover if-”

“Excuse me.”

The sudden sound of an unknown voice right behind them made them whirl round, Yangus and the boy drawing their weapons and moving to screen him and Medea from whoever had found them. Only to find a small slight figure wrapped in a light brown cloak standing at the edge of the clearing.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you” she apologised hastily.

Seeing she was unarmed and alone, his escort relaxed and sheathed their weapons. “Cor blimey” Yangus muttered.

“Sorry” the boy apologised. “We’re slightly jumpy, as you can imagine.”

“Of course” the girl replied, her voice light and lyrical, complemented by her rich rolling accent. As she moved into the moonlight, he could see that she wore a pale orange dress and a beige shawl under her cloak. Closer examination revealed she had glossy dark black hair, a delicate mouth in a nervous smile, a small button of a nose and purple eyes that shone like stars. She didn’t seem very threatening.

“Who are you?” he asked politely.

“Ah, where are my manners? I’m sorry. My name is Valentina; I am the daughter of the Great Kalderasha” the girl told them, bowing politely. In fact, she was showing common courtesy, which normally would not be surprising, but after his last reception...

“Are you not afraid of me like everyone else?”

“Oh no” she answered eagerly. “You see, I knew you would come. I saw a vision that a young soldier and a rough man would come to this clearing with a beautiful white horse pulling a wagon with a strange funny-looking green monster, and that they could make dreams come true.”

“ **A strange funny-looking green monster**?” Was that how she saw him? The indignity of it all! Another insult to add to his wounds. Worse, that uncouth bandit Yangus was in hysterics. “What are you laughing at? You are hardly in position to poke fun at people’s appearances” he snapped, whirling round to face Yangus.

“Oh, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to be rude!” the girl apologised.

“Never mind, I suppose I have had worse today” he sighed wearily. This girl Valentina’s apology sounded sincere, her insult clearly unintentional. In a way that made it worse, but he could hardly hold it against her. Perhaps he should demonstrate his forgiveness, and begin the Rites of Hospitality. Even in their current circumstances, much reduced from what he was accustomed, there was no excuse not to fulfil the Rites, laid down by the Goddess for whenever and wherever Her faithful met.

“Welcome, traveller. You must be weary from your journey. Please, make yourself welcome; our home is your home. If you are thirsty, share our drink. If you are hungry, share our food. If you are tired, rest with us in safety. Stay with us in friendship, until the time that your journey must continue.”

“Blessings be upon your home, Good Host” Valentina answered, bowing before she seated herself on the ground before him. He quickly jumped down from the wagon so she would not have to crane her neck to look at him like a supplicant, which would be the height of poor manners. “My journey is not long, and my destination not far, but I would gladly accept your offer. I need no food nor place to rest, but I welcome your offer of drink and friendship.”

As expected, she had replied with the short stay form, so he could draw the Rites to a close. “Then please, sit with me, and let us drink together.” The verbal portion complete, they waited in silence until the tea could be offered.

The boy had recognised the Rites as soon as they began, like any good child brought up in the Faith should. However they had not intended to set up camp, and he had to rush to get things ready. Yangus returned with firewood gathered from nearby while the boy got a fire going. He immediately placed the kettle on the fire and filled it with water to boil, then he and Yangus brought some logs over so that they might sit by the fire more comfortably. Once the water was boiled, the boy added the herbs to the teapot and poured in the water. Then, after the brew had been left for the requisite amount of time, the boy handed the teapot reverentially to him. It was a Rite the boy performed well, with all due reverence and fervour that could not be faulted.

Now that the tea was ready, he poured out the cups and stirred them in accordance with the Rite, finally offering Valentina and the others a cup. Valentina took it gratefully, and they all drank together. Unfortunately his daughter couldn’t take part in her current state, but he knew the Goddess would understand.

The Rites complete, he returned to what Valentina had said earlier. “So, you say you had a vision telling you that we would be here at this hour on this day? And that we would be able to ‘make dreams come true?’” That sounded hard to believe.

“Yes, I have been waiting here all day for you! You see, I need your help. My father the Great Kalderasha once used to be a great fortune-teller, probably the greatest in the world. There was nothing that he could not see. People came from far and wide to hear their future.”

Hm, come to think of it, he did remember tales of a greatly talented seer in Farebury; many of his court had gone to visit him and hear their fortune, and even Rylus had spoken of him with respect despite his distaste for prophecy.

Encouraged, Valentina went on. “But now his visions are useless, and his predictions no longer come true; he has become incoherent and drinks heavily. No-one comes to hear him anymore; he’s just another drunken fraud who stays in the pub all day. It breaks my heart to see him like this – I want him to return to his former glory, with people from across the land flocking to hear what he sees. I cannot bear to see him end his days wretchedly like this.”

A good girl, devoted to her father so. However, that was all very well, but... “I am most sorry to hear of your troubles. However, and I do not wish to be blunt, but what has that got to do with us? How could **we** be able to help you with this?”

“It’s true, on the face of it, it seems like a problem no-one can help with: The Gift, it comes and goes as the Lady wishes – no-one can control it” Valentina agreed placidly. “But you see, I **know** why my father’s visions stopped. The crystal ball he uses... is made of glass! Of course he cannot see the future in a **glass** ball, who could? Something must have happened to his old crystal ball, and without a focus to centre himself on he cannot guide his Sight as he used to. So you see, all he needs to restore himself to his former glory is a real **crystal** ball!”

“And that’s where you come in. Would you fetch a crystal ball for me and give it to my father? I **know** you can do it. Please I beg you” she beseeched him, bending at the waist to lower herself before them and both arms crossed across her chest in the holy symbol of supplication – a heartfelt plea indeed, and he was loath to refuse her. But they had their own pressing quest, and that gave them little enough opportunity for delay – no matter how desperate a plea, they could not help, especially not for a quest to fetch a crystal ball from Goddess knew where.

He smiled sadly down at the girl as she raised her purple eyes up at-

She wasn’t looking at him.

“Of course” the boy said unthinkingly as soon as he saw her eyes upon him, no doubt dazzled by the reflected starlight and hope within them. “We’ll do everything we can to help, but I don’t see-”

The boy got no further, the girl Valentina springing up from her log and enveloping him in a grateful embrace the moment he agreed, the force of her joy enough to nearly knock him off his feet. The boy hardly knew what way to turn, paralysed by her tears as she cried out her gratitude – Valentina must have been bottling up her emotions for some time, potentially years, to cause such an outpouring of emotion now someone had finally ‘made her wish come true’.

It was a little while before the girl managed to recover her composure, but she still beamed happily at them as if their mission was already accomplished, her eyes blazing with joy. “I knew you would, I knew you had the power to make dreams come true!” Valentina told the boy, as if he were the leader rather than a vassal. Or maybe she had foreseen that the boy was the most vulnerable to her charms, eager and naive. “Now, let me tell you the other vision I had while I was waiting for you here: while I was asleep, I dreamt of a crystal ball floating inside the depths of the Waterfall Caves.” She grinned. “Only the daughter of the Great Kalderasha could know a thing like that!”

“The Waterfall Caves?” echoed the boy.

“There is a hill a day’s journey to the northeast of here, topped with a lake that feeds the River Iris through a series of waterfalls. Behind the waterfalls is a large cave network, and that is what we call the Waterfall Caves.”

Well, that was straight forward enough. Only... **Why hadn’t she said that in the first place!?** If he had known it was such a simple task it would have agreed to it much more readily! And did she just say she fell asleep while waiting for them? Alone, in a wood filled with monsters that **prey on humans!?** She must have divine protection from the Lady Herself!

“Well... that doesn’t sound too hard. But if you know where it is... why haven’t you gone to get it yourself?” the boy asked, and it was a fair question.

“I’m apprenticed to one of the local Healers, and I need to be on hand for them and for my father – I cannot spare the time from town without being missed. Besides, for all the beauty of the waterfalls there are monsters that live in the caves beneath them, and I am no fighter or mage.”

“But we are” the boy smiled, apparently comforted by the fact that they were on no mere errand. “Don’t worry, we’ll find the crystal ball there and bring it back to you.”

“Thank you” Valentina beamed, bowing reverently once more. “I wish that I could do something to repay you... and that your arrival to our town had been more pleasant” she added, glancing at him and Medea. “At the very least, let me tend to the wounds of your driver and your horse.”

Driver! He was the-

He quite abruptly remembered his situation and swallowed the angry rebuke – the girl had been nothing but polite when others had literally tried to lynch him, treating him as any other despite his current ‘appearance’. It was not her fault she could not recognise his royal stature, but Dhoulmagus’, and the sooner they lifted the curse the sooner life could return to normal.

“Thank you, that would be wonderful” the boy thanked Valentina. “We’re already low on herbs, and I daren’t go back into town at the moment, after...”

“Oh, I understand” Valentina nodded, but then she paused. “But... don’t you know any healing magic?”

The boy shook his head, shame-faced. “I know the theory and all from my lessons, but I never reached the practical application of it; they said my magical ability was too little to worth bothering with, and I should focus on my swordplay.”

“Too little? But I can sense your potential!” Valentina exclaimed. Then she beamed at him. “Then perhaps this is how I can repay you! You did say you knew the theory, right?”

“Uh, yes, I did, but-”

“Well then, let me show you the practical side of things, and you’ll be able to do it yourself!”

“That would be brilliant, not having to rely on herbs or paying for a Healer... But it can’t be as easy as that, right?”

“Well, no, but in one of my visions I saw you healing your horse, so you must be able learn! After all, I’ve already seen you do it!”

“Oh, okay then.”

And as easy as that, with the promise that he would succeed because Valentina had already seen him succeed, all the boy’s protests were overcome. It was time to intervene. “Wait just a moment!” Ignoring all the other problems for the moment, Trode settled on the most important one for now. “While your offer is most appreciated, I would be grateful if you do not experiment on my... horse. Under the circumstances, I would be happy to place myself at your disposal.”

“But... uh-” the boy began, balking at the idea of experimenting on him – most likely until now he had not considered the implications of what might happen if the healing magic went wrong.

“Don’t worry about it granddad” Yangus interrupted. “You’d just make the guv nervous – I’ll do it. ‘sides, it’s me duty to the guv.”

Probably wise – he was not particularly keen on being the target of an unpractised and inexperienced Healer, especially one with such imprudent enthusiasm as the boy.

“Are you sure, I mean, I don’t want to hu-”

“Don’t worry guv, I’ve ‘ad some dodgy ‘ealers in me time – you won’t do me any ‘arm, an’ Valentina can sort me out if anythin’ goes wrong, eh?”

“Uh, yes” Valentina agreed, taking a few moments to work out what Yangus had said.

“Well then” Yangus began, taking out a knife and-

“WAIT!” Valentina cried, but she was too late to prevent Yangus from cutting open a portion of his arm. “What did you do that for!?”

“Wot? You needed a wound to ‘eal, right?”

“You didn’t have to go and create one! We could’ve used some of your older wounds!”

“Yeah, but old wounds are ‘arder to ‘eal than fresh wounds, eh? That’s why people can’t ‘eal scars away, or I’d ‘ad most o’ these taken care of. ‘sides, it’s only a little scratch – I’ve suffered worse.”

“That’s not the point!”

“What is done is done” Trode sighed wearily, tiring of this farce of a lesson before it had even begun. “And now that you have an injury to work with...”

“What? Oh, yes, of course” Valentina answered, still a bit shaken. “Right, well. Do you know how to access your magic?”

“Yes” the boy nodded, closing his eyes and tapping into his inner power. As he did so his hesitation and awkwardness vanished, replaced by a tranquil calm. Clearly he had no trouble with forming an inner focus.

“Good, that makes things easier” Valentina smiled. “So, I’m sure you know that there are many types of magic even though they come from the same source, and healing magic has its own branch. Healing is especially different, because rather than working with the spirit of the land you need to work with the spirit of the injured or sick person you’re healing, using their life energies to repair the damage.

“By their life energies I mean their inner strength, not their life force” Valentina corrected quickly, realising her words could be misinterpreted. “Naturally this means that healing is much more challenging to master, which is why practitioners of that branch are referred to as Healers when practitioners of other branches are nearly all referred to as mages.” Fortunately none of this appeared to be news to the boy, which was just as well or Trode would have stopped them then and there.

“We’re just going to work a few basic spells, a general one to speed up the body’s natural healing, the other to target a specific area. You’ll probably only be able to cast the spells a few times for now, but the more you’re familiar with a spell the easier it’ll be to cast, and the more you’ll be able to heal or cast it. When you’ve mastered these spells you can move on to more advanced healing magic, such as mending bones or healing your own injuries, but not without an experienced Healer supervising – incorrectly cast healing magic can do incredible damage.”

“Okay” the boy nodded seriously. “So what do I have to do?”

“Just place your hands on your friend – you should be able to sense what I’m doing. I’ll explain what I’m doing as we go, and when you feel ready I’ll guide you through casting the spell.”

“An’ don’t worry ‘bout ‘ealin’ the scar if you can’t manage it” Yangus added helpfully. “I got plenty o’ others, so it don’t bother me none.”

“Ah, right” the boy nodded absently, focusing on Valentina’s spell. “How did you get all those scars anyway?”

“I’m glad you asked! It’s a long story, filled wiv laughter, thrills and tears...”

At that point he stopped listening – no story begun in that manner could possibly be worth listening to, and the girl Valentina seemed to know what she was doing. Even if something went wrong, they were not so far that the matter could not be addressed speedily, and as the local Healer’s apprentice Valentina would be able to locate the necessary help quickly. He need not concern himself with the trivialities – if the boy could learn a few healing spells, so much the better for their journey. If not and Yangus was injured in this experiment, then they were no worse off than when they started.

Instead he went to a nearby brook for the Rite of Cleansing, washing the fruit smeared on him and his clothes and removing the travel stains that had built up over the course of the day. Feeling refreshed and more congenial after getting clean, he then returned to the wagon and retrieved the log he had been writing the day’s events in, adding his disastrous foray into Farebury for good measure, though it pained him to recall and record what had happened. It was a grievous blow to his pride to be sure, but perhaps a blessing in disguise – had he presented himself before his Helms in this state they would no doubt have reacted the same way, and more effectively. Even if they had known his circumstances, they might have seen it divine retribution from the Goddess for the peace process he had pursued for so long and seized the kingdom from him. That would have no doubt led to civil war, and his kingdom... No, far better an early wake-up call now than a painful ending later.

“Valentina!”

The sound of a stranger in the glade made him jump. He had been in process of re-joining the others, but instead he decided to observe things from the safety of the wagon. Not that he was frightened of course, but his appearance had invited enough trouble for one day.

As the stranger moved into the light of the fire Trode could see he was a tall man with bushy black hair and a thick moustache dressed in an orange tunic with dark purple trousers. His voice had the same lyrical accent as the girl’s, and given their similar clothing it was not a great leap to assume that he was Valentina’s father. His assumption was proven correct seconds later as Valentina jumped up with a startled cry of “Father! What are you doing here?”

“You need to ask?” retorted the man, the ‘Great Kalderasha’ he supposed. “The question is, what are you doing here? It is late – you should be home.”

Valentina glanced up at the moon and scrambled to her feet. “Ah! I must have lost track of time!” It was true, it was very late – it was quite remiss of him not to have sent the girl home before now, especially given the greater number and strength of monsters at night. Her father must have been-

“And who are these people?” Kalderasha slurred, staggering over. Until that moment he had not realised quite how drunk the man was. “What are they doing here, out in the night?”

“We decided to camp out here, away from the fire” the boy answered quickly. “Your daughter was-”

“Never mind. I know why she was here” Kalderasha interrupted. “Whatever she has asked you, forget it! I don’t need **anyone’s** help! I’m fine as I am!”

“But father-”

“Say your goodbyes Valentina, we’re going home” Kalderasha said firmly.

“Fellow Traveller, will you not stay a while?” the boy began formally. “You must be weary from your journey. Please, make yourse-”

“Excuse us; it’s been a long day and I’m tired” Kalderasha interrupted, leaving as abruptly as he appeared. “I trust you will have a safe journey tomorrow.”

Interrupting the Rite of Hospitality and not even giving the decline form, an outrageous breach of etiquette that was greatly insulting and flouting the Goddess’ Teachings. And of course the deeply devout boy immediately took offence, his face flushing with fury. And after the trials of the day, the boy was more than likely to go for his sword, and-

Medea whinnied, and while the boy was distracted Valentina to stepped in. “Many thanks for your most gracious Hospitality, Good Host. May the Lady look upon your household with kindness, and allow it to prosper and flourish.”

Valentina spoke the parting words of the Rite of Hospitality in a rush, not even pausing for breath, but it was a timely reminder that she at least had accepted and observed their Hospitality, and of the reason she had sought them out. The boy took a deep breath and bowed, crossing his arms so that he was a mirror image of the girl as he spoke the traditional refrain. “Safe journey, Honoured Guest. May the Goddess watch over you on your journey, and keep your path smooth and easy.”

Although the Rites were over, before she parted Valentina grabbed hold of the boy’s hands. “I’m sorry about my father; it’s been hard on him lately. But he does need your help, really he does! He’s the one who’s truly suffering; he pushes everyone away because he’s too ashamed to ask for help, even though he can’t do it on his own. Please, go to the Waterfall Caves and bring back the crystal ball so he can be truly great once more, and people will travel from all around to hear his visions. Please!”

“I said we would” the boy answered, sounding defensive. “I won’t go back on my word.”

Valentina flashed another brilliant smile at the boy, wrapping him in another grateful hug. “Thank you” she whispered, kissing him on the cheek and then hurrying after her father.

Medea gave a loud snort. “Yes, my dear, truly magnificent!” Trode agreed as he emerged from the wagon. “What courage, what love and devotion she has for her father! To wait all day in the wild like this, unprotected and defenceless, and to beg for help from complete strangers, lowering herself before us as she did... Magnificent! Why, it reminds me of my own Medea.” Medea gave another loud snort and pawed the ground with one of her hooves, apparently embarrassed. Patting her neck and leaving her be, he instead turned to the boy. “Boy, do whatever you can to help her!”

The boy blinked in surprise. “I thought we’d already said we would?” He raised an eyebrow at that, and waited for the coin to fall. It took a while, but the boy got there in the end. “Ah! You didn’t say that, did you?”

“No, I did not. Be careful when committing others with your words, boy – they may not agree with the decisions you make on their behalf.” Trusting his point had been made, he then continued “However in this instance I approve your decision. Valentina’s heart-felt plea cannot be ignored, nor can we so idly disregard her faith in us. She has taken the trouble to teach you healing, her craft and prospective livelihood, despite the risk to her future if her teacher found out. Such an act cannot be ignored. Indeed, we should repay kindness with greater kindness, and retrieve the crystal ball for her father. Solib.”

He paused, an idea coming to him. “And if by getting the crystal ball this ‘Great Kalderasha’ will be able to see visions again, perhaps he might see where Dhoulmagus is! Our journey may not be in vain after all! This is perfect! We must get that crystal ball! Where did she say it was?”

“The Waterfall Caves, Your Majesty” the boy replied promptly. “They’re in Waterfall Mountain less than a day’s journey to the Northwest of here. They grow herbs for the town there and travellers often visit for the view, so there’s a path leading straight to it – we can’t miss it.”

“Excellent. And are we fully provisioned?”

“No, Your Majesty. Not unless you want to eat medicinal herb broth again, and we’re low on medicinal herbs.”

He grimaced – that had not been his favourite meal. “Very well, there is no point moving on this late at night, especially without decent provisions; we will leave for the Waterfall Caves as soon as we have restocked our supplies tomorrow morning. However we cannot afford to dally too long on this minor diversion if we are to catch up with Dhoulmagus! We must move with all haste to the Waterfall Caves, and then prepare ourselves for whatever lies within. I have no doubt that a gruelling trial awaits us; magical artefacts do not grow on trees after all, and I am certain a crystal ball would have been taken long ago if there was not a significant monster presence to act as a deterrent to the idle adventurer. However we shall not let that deter us! We shall overcome these trials and be all the stronger for them, each stumbling block a stepping stone until we reach Dhoulmagus and bring him to justice, and restore-”

“Give it a rest granddad” Yangus groaned. “I wanna rest meself!”

“ **Granddad!?** ” he spluttered. “Will you get it into your thick skull that I am not, and never will be, your granddad! You are no family of mine, and you are certainly not the child of my darling Medea! When you address me, you shall either say Your Majesty or-”

A whinny followed by a snort interrupted him, and the boy leapt into action. “Good idea, Your Highness” the boy agreed readily, removing the saddle from her and bringing her blanket from the wagon. “It’s late, and you’ve had a long and trying day. Why don’t you rest up and regain your strength for tomorrow – we’ll take care of things here.”

With his daughter laying herself down on the ground, resting her head on the small cloth pillow the boy had fashioned for her, it did not feel right to continue his lecturing of Yangus, so he brought it to a halt right there. “Do not think this is over: we shall continue this tomorrow. For now, we rest.”

“Aye, aye” Yangus yawned, though he followed the boy’s lead rather than his own. “You takin’ first watch again guv?”

“If you don’t mind” the boy confirmed as he pulled out the tent and helped Yangus set it up. “I can take the first and last shifts, but the midnight shift is still too much for me.”

“Don’t worry guv, I’m used to workin’ odd ‘ours” the former bandit chortled. “Still, don’t work yerself too ‘ard, eh guv? You’ve ‘ad a long day an’ all, y’know.”

“I know, I know, I’ll be careful.”

“Well, I shall retire for the night” he announced. “I shall see you at dawn tomorrow.”

“Good night Your Majesty” the boy bowed formerly. “May the Night watch over your dreams.”

“May the Night keep you safe.”

Medea whinnied. “Good night Your Highness” the boy replied. “May the Night watch over your dreams.” Medea whinnied again, and the boy bowed as if she had added her own response to the traditional refrain.

“G’night guv.”

“Night Yangus. May the Night watch over your dreams.”

“May the Night keep you safe guv.”

“...Can you please not call me guv?”

“Sure thing guv.”

“...”

\-----

The Waterfall Mountain was even grander than Jay had imagined. Yesterday, after they’d bought some food and simple wayfaring clothes from town, they’d made the journey to the Waterfall Caves. However it had poured with rain the whole way and the dark clouds meant light faded early, so they’d arrived in darkness. Now though, with the dawn light cresting over the horizon, he could see Waterfall Mountain in all its glory.

The caves were cut into a large rock that suddenly loomed out of the ground, not large enough to deserve the name mountain but big enough to stand out from the surrounding hills, and water poured down its sides. And as the water poured down the hill in great streams, splashing off rocks and casting their spray about, so the dawn light struck the water and cast rainbows everywhere. It was a beautiful sight. No wonder the river that curled away from Waterfall Mountain had been named Iris.

He stood there for a while in the early morning light, watching sky gradually brighten as the last traces of night were brushed away. It was like a landscape from the Lost Ages, maybe even a relic left over from when the Ageless shaped the land.

But they hadn’t come for the view, so he woke Yangus and they went down to the river to observe the Rite of Purification before getting breakfast. The King rose with the smell of breakfast, and once everyone had eaten their fill, he left the King and Yangus to their next argument while he washed the breakfast things in the river. Then, finally, they were ready.

“Well then, I see no reason for further delay” King Trode began. “You two go in and fetch this crystal ball while Medea and I wait out here.”

“Eh? The two o’ us?” Yangus echoed. “Wot about you?”

“What? You surely cannot expect royal personages such as **ourselves** to go in **there** _!_ We might be injured! The path alone is too treacherous for my Medea to cross safely, and I could not leave her by herself out here. No, no, you go in and sort it all out; we will be waiting out here for you. I trust you have retrieved everything you need from the wagon?”

“Uh, not quite Your Majesty” he admitted – he hadn’t thought that he wouldn’t have quick access to the wagon.

“Well, fetch whatever you need and then be on your way. Come on, look lively now!”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” He grabbed the medicinal herbs and stuffed them into his bag, as they’d most likely need them inside, and passed a handful of torches to Yangus as they’d definitely need those. Then, tightening his gauntlets and greaves and fastening his new leather shield into place, he gave the King and Princess a formal bow. The King nodded gravely and the Princess whinnied good luck, and he joined Yangus and started along the rocky path that snaked its way behind the waterfall to the cave entrance.

As expected, inside it was dark and gloomy – perfect for medicinal herbs. He lit a torch with some flint and started inside, but a thought struck him and he span round. “Your Majesty! Will you be safe out there? Should Yangus stay with you?”

“Eh?”

“You will have more need of him in there than I will out here” King Trode called back. “Do not worry on our account, we will be quite safe out here. Run along now; the sooner you find this crystal ball, the sooner we can return it to the fortune-teller and track down Dhoulmagus!”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” He wasn’t so sure, but he couldn’t deny he needed someone with him in here to watch his back, and two people would certainly get the job done quicker than one on his own. Still...

“You worry too much, guv” Yangus told him. “They’ll be fine out there. It’s us we’ve gotta worry about, goin’ in a place like this on our tod.”

“Don’t call me guv” he muttered for what seemed like the hundredth time.

“Sure thing guv.”

He sighed, then set out deeper into the cave.

The cave was much deeper than he thought. Much, much deeper. Some parts of the cave were so big the light from the torch didn’t even reach the walls. He tried to move quickly, as they didn’t have an unlimited supply of torches and he didn’t want to try travelling in this place in the dark, but that was easier said than done. For starters the mountain was quite hollow and riddled with tunnels, and it was easy to get disorientated. They even found a merchant who had come to collect some herbs but had become lost and stuck there for days. He gave the poor man directions to the way out, but after that he marked the walls to show where they’d been and how to find their way back.

The other problem was the monsters. Fortunately they were not as fierce as they might have been, but many had made their home here, and they were none too keen to share with humans. Thankfully they were in a place filled with medicinal herbs, so it was easy to tend to their injuries, but it was costing them time – time they didn’t have. They kept searching for hours, until they finally found themselves in the lowest level of the cave.

Light spilled out from a hole in the cavern above and the water cascading down the walls cast magnificent rainbows as they fell. The bottom of the cave was filled with water fed by the waterfalls, turning the cavern into a still underground pool, with steady ripples gently flowing along its surface. It was surprisingly pretty. So pretty in fact that it took him a while to notice but, as he followed a rocky outspur that jutted out into the centre of the pool like a pier, at its end was a small pedestal. And there, sparkling in the light atop the pedestal, was the silver orb of a crystal ball.

It took him a while to realise what it was he was seeing, but when he did he was filled with a sense of pride and accomplishment he’d never felt before. They’d done it. Their search was finally over. Against the odds, they had ventured into the Waterfall Cave and found the Crystal Ball. Now they could return it to Valentina and her father would be restored. Their quest was a resounding success.

Elated, he called out to Yangus, and they both ran across the pier, slipping and sliding along the slick wet stone, almost falling into the water. They somehow avoided disaster though, and at last they stood before the goal of their quest – the Crystal Ball. Now they could take it and-

There was an almighty roar as he reached for the Crystal Ball, the sound echoing off the walls, making it louder and even more terrifying than it already was. He jumped back and reached for his sword while Yangus grabbed the giant mallet they’d bought for him back in Farebury. As they did so a large figure burst from the water and glared at them menacingly.

It was an extremely large merman, a spiked fin stretching down the back of his head and webbed hands ending in sharp claws. His upper torso and face were mainly human, except for his fins, his scaly crimson skin and his sharp teeth, but his lower body tapered off and ended in a tail like a fish. The merman examined the two of them intently, studying them as if deciding whether they would make a good meal or not.

“Ah, visssitorss, at lassst” the merman hissed in Empyrean suddenly, making him jump. The merman’s voice was surprisingly high-pitched and had a lisp, but somehow it still terrified him anyway. “I have waited for sssoo long for thisss moment. Ssso many years have gone by while I have waited patiently. And now, the moment hasss come!” He fixed them with an icy glare and then said slowly “Are you the ownersss of thisss cryssstal ball?”

There was only silence as the three of them stared at each other, the huge merman waiting menacingly for their response. After a few moments he recovered enough to reply, even if he wasn’t able to stop his voice from trembling, “N-n-no sir, w-we aren’t.”

As soon as he said this the merman’s face fell in disappointment. “You **aren’t**? And I had ssso hoped that you were the onesss. Ah, well. Many more yearsss I will have to wait, but one day I will find the one and give him what he dessservess.” And with that he subsided and sank beneath the water without a trace, only slow ripples spreading across the water’s surface betraying the fact that he had ever been there.

They stared at the place where the merman had been. “Well, that was a bit of an anti-climax” he said, almost giggling with relief as he clutched hold of his lucky medallion and sent a prayer of thanks to the Goddess. He hadn’t expected a monster like that to be lurking in here, so far from the sea and so much stronger than the other monsters in the cave.

“Yeah, cor blimey. I thought ‘e was gonna to tear us to ribbons” Yangus agreed. He paused for a moment to look around as they caught their breath, then asked “Now wot?”

“We could always try grabbing the crystal ball again, but draw our weapons first in case he attacks?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

Drawing his sword and holding it tightly, he reached for the crystal ball once more, and again an almighty roar echoed of the walls as the imposing figure of the merman burst out from the water. He fixed them with a fearsome stare and hissed. “You again? Very well. Are you the ownersss of thisss cryssstal ball?”

Jay opened his mouth to answer no, they had just come to claim it, but Yangus got there first and shouted “Yeah!”

The merman’s eyes narrowed to small slits as he grinned an unpleasant smile. “ **I knew it!** I knew my wait wasss not in vain! Finally, after all thessse yearsss, the moment for my vengeance hasss come!”

His words still echoing through the cavern, the merman launched himself at them with a victorious, piercing cry. They jumped back to avoid his attack, and he gulped as the merman landed on top of the pedestal, crushing it beneath him and knocking the crystal ball into the water. They both raised their weapons simultaneously, anticipating the next blow.

They didn’t have to wait long. No sooner had he hit the ground than the merman swiped at them with his tail. Yangus was able to jump back out of reach, but Jay was too close and was caught full on, knocked to the ground and his sword sent clattering across the rocky floor. Yangus countered with a blow from his mallet, but the merman barely noticed and struck back with sharp jab of his claws as he heaved himself closer. However the merman was out of his element and slow, and Yangus was easily able to evade and counter with another harsh blow.

As Yangus attacked from one side Jay struck from the other, snatching up his sword and striking at the merman’s back. The monster cried out in pain and whirled round to face him, lashing out with a fierce counter-attack. Jay managed to parry the first blow, but the second racked his side and the third caught him on the side of the head, knocking him back to the ground. He put a hand to his wounds and they came away covered with blood, the deep cuts left by the merman’s sharp claws bleeding heavily.

While he scrambled out of the way to stem the blood Yangus struck at the merman’s back, distracting the merman. However Yangus didn’t see the tail lashing back at him and was sent spinning into the water, and the merman was soon back after Jay. Jay managed to parry a few lunges and the others only caught him glancing blows, but the sheer force of the merman’s attack pushed him back until he was teetering on the edge of the pool.

The merman grinned and drew himself up for the final blow, but suddenly gave a cry of pain as Yangus suddenly reappeared, landing a heavy blow on the merman’s tail. Unable to lash back with his tail pinned down, the merman twisted round and swiped at Yangus with his claws, forcing him to leap back and freeing the tail.

However even as the tail was freed Jay took advantage of the opening and hit the merman on the back of the head. Whirling round to face him, the merman was then struck on the side by Yangus again. Letting out a bellow of rage, the monster charged at Jay, but he was ready this time and dove to the side, slashing at the merman’s face as he passed. The merman flinched with pain and drew back, only struck by Yangus again with a heavy blow to the side of the head. Shrieking with pain, the merman fell back into the water, where he floated groaning in agony.

“The pain! The pain of my old wound” the merman moaned, clutching his head. “All these yearsss I have waited to have my vengeance on the one who dropped that cryssstal ball on my head. Yearsss I have ssspent sssleeplesss nightsss dreaming of how you would beg for mercy, but inssstead I sssuffer an ignominiousss defeat and sssee my persssecutorsss take it back.”

The merman pulled his hand away, and he could see Yangus’ blow had reopened an old livid purple scab on the back of the merman’s head, and it was leaking orange blood. “Very well, you have beaten me. Take your cryssstal ball. But wait...” The merman struggled to swim upright and looked at them more closely. “You fight too well to be mere fortune-tellersss, and firssst you sssaid the cryssstal ball wasssn’t yoursss. Who are you, and why do you want thisss cryssstal ball?”

“Well, it isn’t ours” he answered honestly. “We just came to fetch it.”

“...to fetch it?” the merman echoed. “For what purpose?”

Talking with a monster like this moments after he tried to kill them felt a little strange, but there was no reason not to answer him. “...There’s a seer in a town not far from here who’s gifted with the power of prophecy. Only some years ago the prophecies stopped coming true, and he has lost his former fame. His daughter told us that his crystal ball has been replaced by a glass one, and that if we came and brought back the crystal ball she saw here, he would be restored to his former glory. And so... here we are.”

“All thisss time, all thessse yearsss I have waited, only to battle the wrong onesss” the merman groaned mournfully, retrieving the crystal ball from the pool and handing it to him. “Ah well. Take the cryssstal ball. It isss yoursss now; do with it what you will. But...” The merman fixed them with a steely gaze and his voice hardened. “When you sssee that seer, tell him one thing: **DON’T THROW THINGSSS IN MY WATERFALL!** ”

With his final words still ringing in their ears the merman dove beneath the water, a trail of orange left behind him as he went to tend to his wounds.

So, the whole battle had been a complete misunderstanding – the merman hadn’t been after them at all, just the one responsible for hurting him so long ago. It was like the Goddess said: If they had explained things properly from the start, they could’ve saved themselves a lot of trouble. This was an important lesson to them both. “I think this establishes the fact that it’s always better to tell the truth.”

“Er... yeah, sure.”

\-----

Whatever was taking them so long? Trode had not thought that it should be so hard to find a single crystal ball inside a cave. Yet it had been hours, and in a few more the sun would set and Dhoulmagus would be further from their reach. That was an illusion, he knew that really – without any firm idea of where Dhoulmagus was or even who he was the passing of time made no difference, but when he thought of his kingdom and his precious daughter reduced to their current states he felt like he should be doing something, anything, to rectify the matter with his own two hands. Yet here he was – waiting. Just what was ta-

A sudden splash followed by a loud neighing drew his attention to the cave mouth, and he turned just in time to see a second splash as his two retainers jumped through the waterfall and into the pool below. They had finally returned. He and Medea made their way over to where the two swam ashore, Medea whinnying again as they climbed out of the-

The water was red.

Forgoing stately dignity, he ran over to the two of them, eyeing the amount of red in the water with dismay. Certainly the water might make it appear that there was more blood than there was in reality, but even so there seemed to be a rather large amount of red, and they were moving rather awkwardly. As he drew close the boy fell to one knee and said “Your Majesty, are you alright?”

Eh? “I think I should ask you the same question, and with more reason!”

“Huh?” The boy looked ready to pass out – it would be better to be direct.

“The Princess and I are fine, thank you. The monsters were no bother. More to the point, what about the two of you?”

“Our quest was a success, Your Majesty! We have retrieved the Crystal Ball!” the boy beamed, pulling said item from his bag to hold it up to him. And indeed, yes, it looked very impressive. But that was not his primary concern right now!

“Very good, but what about your condition? What happened?”

“Huh? Ah, we hit a few obstacles, but it was nothing we couldn’t handle.”

Oh, this was ridiculous! In sheer desperation, he turned to the last person in the world he would rely on, and asked him “What happened?”

“Bloomin’ cave is flippin’ massive, an’ full o’ monsters” Yangus grumbled, helping the boy to the wagon as the boy’s pet field mouse jumped out from his pocket and started running around and getting underfoot. “Not strong monsters mind, but there’s a lot o’ ‘em. An’ the crystal was guarded by a ruddy great big merman, an’ ‘e didn’t do ‘alf a number on the guv ‘n’ me, I can tell ya.”

He spent a few moments trying to translate ‘Yangus-speak’ into something more comprehensible, like Common Empyrean. “A merman, you say? What was he doing here?”

“Mebbe ‘e was lost?”

He didn’t dignify that with a response. “And he ‘did a number’ on you?”

“Yeah, he got the guv a few times wiv ‘is claws, ‘is left side an’ ‘is head got the worst o’ it, an’ he’s been losin’ a lotta blood. ‘e was doin’ alright at first, but the closer we got to the top ‘e started goin’ a little wobbly. ‘e was practicin’ wot to say to ya when he got out.”

“I’m perfectly fine” the boy said weakly. “This is just... a minor setback. I’ll be fine.”

Foolish boy! This was not the time to be playing heroics! It was a sad day when he had to rely on Yangus for more accurate information. He peeled back the blood-soaked clothes to give his wounds a closer look. Ah. “Lad, is there are part of you that is not injured? I would prefer an accurate report to whatever you think I want to hear.”

The boy bit back his first response, clearly intending to say his wounds were nothing again, and instead admitted “I thought my left knee was okay, but I bashed it on a rock just now, so, no.”

Levity, eh? Well, perhaps things were not as severe as he feared. “Perhaps purchasing some armour would not be amiss?”

“We don’t have the coin” the boy replied, and that was the truth, much as it pained him to admit – it was hard to budget for a journey when you did not know how long it would be.

“Well, at the very least we can redress these wounds and give you a chance to catch your breath.”

“But Sire, the time, it’s getting-”

“You let me worry about things like that” he said sharply. “Just do as you are told lad, and we can get underway later – it will do us no good if you collapse on the road due to blood loss.”

“I- ...Very well Sire.”

“Good. Now, why do you not give me a few more details of your travails in the cave while I work.”

“I’m glad you asked granddad. You see, it’s a epic tale, filled wiv laughter, thrills an-”

“I wasn’t asking you! And I’m not your granddad!”

\-----

They managed to get back to Farebury that evening without any trouble, despite their late start from Waterfall Mountain, and as soon as the King and Princess were settled they made their way to the town plaza. As they passed through the Traders’ Way the only real sign of recent events were some scorch marks on the ground and the charred remains of Guildmaster Rylus’ house. It was late, so the streets were deserted and all the shutters on the windows were shut and barred, but that suited the two of them just fine. The late hour was actually a help, as Kalderasha would be at the pub and Valentina would have returned home from her apprenticeship – it was the perfect time to hand her the crystal ball.

They returned to the pub and followed Valentina’s directions from the nearby well, and it didn’t take much guesswork to find her house: it was the only house still made in the old traditional style. Three floors high with a sloping roof with a sharp point at the top, large curtained windows and huge wooden beams that kept the house upright, it looked utterly unlike all the other houses in the street, or even in Farebury. And just in case it wasn’t already obvious this house was unusual, it had a once-brightly painted wooden sign above its door with golden embroidered letters proclaiming ‘The Great Kalderasha’ lived here.

They walked over to the old house and slowly opened the door. Peering inside they were struck by the elaborate furnishing of the room. It seemed no expense had been spared to make it appear like a traditional fortune-teller’s room; there were cloth hangings dyed dark and sombre but soothing shades of red, purple and blue draped across the walls and hung from the ceiling, giving the room the appearance of a circus tent. To the right of the room was a staircase going up to the top of the house, while to the left a door led to the main living area where Valentina and Kalderasha would cook, relax and entertain guests.

But pride of place in the centre of the room, on top of a little round table covered with a dark red cloth, was the glass replica of the crystal ball, placed on a small purple cushion. Before them sat a couple of empty chairs where the customer sat to have their fortune taken. On the other side of the table was the chair with-

The Great Kalderasha!

“I knew that you would return” Kalderasha said, looking up. “And it seems you have done as Valentina asked. You see, even with a glass ball, the Great Kalderasha’s eyes see further than you realise!” Ignoring the rules of Hospitality, Kalderasha stood and walked over to them. He started to speak but Kalderasha cut him off. “I sent Valentina out on an errand; she won’t interfere. Now, you have the crystal ball.” It was a statement rather than a question. Even so, he didn’t want to admit it.

“No, I-”

“Liar! I don’t even need a glass ball, I can see it right there!”

“I’m not a liar” he muttered, glancing at Yangus as he shuffled shiftily, the crystal ball held behind his back. “Yangus has the crystal ball, not me.”

“Don’t be a child! Now, take the crystal ball with you and put it back where it came from!”

“What!? After all our hard work to get it? No way!”

“You are meddling in matters that do not concern you. And you are wasting your time – you can bring back my crystal ball as many times as you like, I will just throw it away again!”

“But why? What reason could you possibly have for throwing away your crystal ball and tossing away your reputation by using a fake!?”

“You have no idea what is at stake here!” Kalderasha thundered, his nostrils flaring in irritation. “Do not interfere with what you do not understand – I am perfectly content as I am!”

“Why? What **is** at stake here? Maybe we can-”

“No-one knows why I threw away my crystal ball! Even **Valentina** has no idea. Do you think I’m going to explain to a stranger? Forget it and get out! And take that crystal ball with you! No matter how many times you bring it back to me I will merely throw it in the waterfall again!”

“You mustn’t do that! He doesn’t like people throwing things in his waterfall, and it might hit him again and open up his old wound!”

“What in Empyreus are you babbling about!? Forget it, give me the crystal ball!” Kalderasha demanded. “I will smash it into a million pieces right here, so it never finds its way back to me again!”

“I won’t let you!” he declared, putting himself between Kalderasha and Yangus. “Valentina’s dreams rest on this – I won’t let you throw that away!”

“Stand aside!” Kalderasha yelled, shoving him out of the way. Kalderasha hit him right where the merman had slashed earlier, accidentally reopening the wounds and making him cry out in pain.

“Guv!” Yangus yelled, dropping the crystal ball on the floor and running to tackle-

“ **STOP!** ”

Everyone whirled round to see Valentina standing in the doorway, tears already beginning to run down her face. “Please stop father” she said softly. “Why are you doing this to yourself? Don’t you want to become great again?”

“You don’t understand!” Kalderasha cried in frustration, sudden grief and guilt etched on his face. “I made a decision many years ago that I would turn my back on fame and fortune.” He softened and walked towards her, putting his hands on her shoulders. “Please Valentina, I don’t ask you to understand; I’m asking you to trust me. Don’t force me to explain, I beg you.”

“I do trust you, but I care too much to see you destroy yourself and drown your sorrows. If you told me what was wrong, then maybe I could help!”

“I **can’t** tell you!” he yelled, whirling away from her and walking to the far side of the room.

“ **Why?** I’m old enough to understand and make my own choices now. You don’t have to protect me anymore.”

“ **But if I tell you I might lose you!** ” There was a long silence as the two stared at each other, each willing the other to understand and stop being stubborn. He and Yangus shifted uneasily, realising they had accidentally intruded on a rather private scene and desperately trying to think of a way to escape without being spotted.

In the end it was Kalderasha who backed down first, turned away from them all and staring out the window. “If you knew what I have done... You see, back then there was nothing I could not see. The ‘Great Kalderasha’ was known all over the world, and I was walking on air. Fortune-telling was my life, my **soul**. But I thought only of myself; I lived for the vision, and didn’t care what I saw or who I told it to. And so, one day, when someone came asking to look for...”

He broke off with a sob, and Valentina crept up silently and put a hand on his shoulder. “Is this the story about my real parents? Is that what’s been haunting you all this time?” she asked softly. Kalderasha stared at her in disbelief. “Father, I’ve known for **years** what happened to them; this town thrives on gossip – one day I overheard.”

“But how can you not blame me?” Kalderasha wailed. “How can you not hate me for what I did?”

“Because you were just fortune-telling, just doing what you do best” she told him emphatically, taking his hands in her own. “It doesn’t matter; even if you hadn’t told those men where to find them, they would have found out another way – it was only a matter of time. What matters is that you were the one who took me in after they were killed and raised me to be the person I am now. I don’t have any memories of them; you’re my father now, no matter what. I love you, and I want to see you happy again, restored to your former glory doing the thing you love.

“And I want to see it for myself. I was too young to remember, but you were once a truly great seer, weren’t you? I want to see the Great Kalderasha in all his glory. I want to see your magnificent powers at work.”

“Oh, my sweet Valentina...” Kalderasha cried, engulfing his daughter in a big hug.

“Oh, father...” Valentina sniffed, burying her face in his hair.

“Don’t it get you right ‘ere” Yangus sobbed, wiping his tears away.

“Ssh! They’ll hear you!” he hissed.

“Oh Valentina...”

“Oh father...”

“Oh Valentina...”

“Oh father...”

“Er, so wot do we do now?”

“Ssh!”

\-----

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I first wrote this, my main issue was that it felt particularly disjointed. Well, that was because I was following the game format, and for a game it makes sense to have cutscenes be broken up by gameplay, otherwise you're watching a movie not playing a game.  
> But I'm not writing a game - I'm writing a book, and (most) books work better with continuous flow than several disjointed sections (unless you're a really good writer). And so I completely rewrote the chapter so that the first section is all one scene rather than several little scenes. For example, in the game Valentina comes into the forest, to invite you back to her house so she can tell you about a favour she wants to ask - why not just ask the favour in the forest, where she won't be interrupted by her father returning at an inopportune moment? Of course her father still interrupts, but this time he leaves the safety of town to go look for her, the first indication of a deeper character. It caused a fair bit of reworking, but I feel I remained faithful to the game despite the relocation to the forest.
> 
> Hopefully you'll agree that Jay isn't quite so bland as compared to my previous version - while his actions in the previous drafts were mainly guided by 'plot requires him to do this, work out why he does this' and made him a generally nice kind of guy, this edition takes it a step further and is more 'he does this, so what does that say about him' and looks at some of his flaws. So now we see he's trying to do the right thing, but as a means to an end rather than 'because he's a nice guy', and how sometimes he takes being 'heroic' too far. And yes, he is actively trying to be a hero. I'll expand on this in future chapters.  
> I've also tried to expand on King Trode a bit - before he was often used as comedy relief (both by me and the game), but he does have depth which I felt my previous drafts didn't portray very well. Telling things from his perspective should go a long way to correcting that, but I feel his reaction to seeing Jay return from the Waterfall Cave fleshes out his character a little, even if it's only a brief scene.
> 
> I also found it hard to portray Kalderasha's turmoil when Valentina comes in while remaining true to the game. It feels a little brief and things are resolved a little quickly, but I couldn't think of a way to drag it out more and didn't think the scene would benefit if I did, so I left things as they were.


	6. The Chase Continues

Jay woke early the next morning and stretched, feeling restless. He paused a moment trying to figure out where he was, then the events of last night came back to him. He and Yangus had tried to slip out unnoticed, but they hadn’t actually handed over the crystal ball, so they were forced to wait uncomfortably until Kalderasha and Valentina were done. Once they had presented Kalderasha with the crystal ball however both had insisted that they stay the night. It was late and they were tired and Valentina could heal their wounds, so after some persuasion he had accepted their Hospitality – and this time Kalderasha had observed the Rites in full, he and Valentina even giving up their own beds. Not long after the two of them turned in to leave Kalderasha and Valentina alone for a while – they still felt that they were intruding on a private family moment.

Now it was morning, too early for most of the town to be up, and quiet apart from Yangus’ snores. But he rose and dressed anyway, then slipped quietly out of the house to climb the town wall and watch the sun rise above the mountains. If he looked closely, he thought that he could just make out the dark cloud hovering over Trodain.

That was the other reason he’d turned in early last night, and why he’d left the house before dawn this morning. Seeing Valentina and her father together like that, it made him feel... Urgh, this was pathetic. He thought he’d put all this stuff behind him ages ago. But now, with Trodain gone, he found all the old feelings bubbling up. He missed his friends at the castle, the familiar routine and certainty of life in the palace. He even missed the long training sessions and guard duty, something he’d never thought would happen. It was only just over a week and a half since they had left, and yet he felt a terrible hollowness sweep over him. This was the furthest he’d ever been from the capital since he was a child, but that wasn’t the problem – the problem was that he never could go home, as it simply wasn’t **there** anymore. It was destroyed, in ruins, and all the people in it cursed, transformed into thorn vines. He felt very lost and alone, despite the noise of the town beginning to rise behind him.

He gave himself a shake and slapped his cheeks; these thoughts were far too gloomy for such a beautiful morning. Besides, he wasn’t alone; he was travelling with the King and Princess as their royal bodyguard, an honour he never thought he’d achieve, and he had Yangus for company. And standing around thinking dark thoughts and whining about what he’d lost wasn’t going to achieve anything. After heading to the church and joining the dawn service, he wandered back to Kalderasha’s house, passing through the market to buy some supplies and an apple for the Princess.

When he got back Kalderasha greeted him from behind the fortune-telling table, Valentina still sleeping on the sofa in the back room. The crystal ball they had returned was now back in its rightful place in the centre of the table, and it seemed to glow in a way that the glass one hadn’t. The ‘Great Kalderasha’ also seemed different; he sat upright, his eyes sparkled, his hair was clean, glossy and brushed, and the shadows under his eyes seemed to have shrunk – he was almost a different man.

As he walked in Kalderasha smiled. “Ah, welcome back. Please, sit down. You have done us a great service. I must thank you for your hard work. Look, I have already put my crystal ball back where it belongs – now I can begin my work in earnest again. Valentina said that you were looking for someone; please, let me find them for you, it’s the least I can do.”

He gladly sat and started to tell him about Dhoulmagus, but before he could say a word Kalderasha held up a hand for silence. “No need to tell me anything. My crystal ball will show me everything I need to know.” With that he placed his hands over the crystal ball and stared into to it.

“Yes, yes” Kalderasha whispered. “I must thank you again. Many years have passed since I gazed into the crystal like this. It feels so good not to have to pretend anymore. Let’s see: the clouds are clearing, the vision is coming to me.

“Yes, I see it! I see it!” he cried, his voice getting louder with a mixture of excitement and triumph. “There is a... jester? He is... He is breaking through the North-eastern checkpoint!?” Kalderasha glanced at him, puzzled, but the fortune-teller only needed a look at his face to see he was on the right track. “There’s something else. This... jester, he was... here, on the day of the fire. He-! He... he **killed** Guildmaster Rylus and started the fire!”

Kalderasha stopped in shock, staring into the crystal ball in amazement and horror. “Wait, there’s more!? Ah! Can it be? Surely not... It is! I know this man! This jester, he... he has changed, but there can be no mistake: it has to be one of Guildmaster Rylus’ old apprentices, **Dhoulmagus!** ”

With this final shout Kalderasha sank back into his chair, so shaken that he had broken out in a cold sweat, and it took him several moments to bring his breathing back under control. Valentina had woken up from all the noise and came into the room, looking at her father in concern. Then a loud thumping sound from upstairs let them know Yangus was awake, and he crashed down the stairs and ran over.

“Did you ‘ear that guv?” Yangus cried. “‘e said that this Dhoulmagus bloke killed Guildmaster Rylus, and that ‘e’s breaking through the North-eastern Checkpoint. ‘e’s the evil mage you an’ granddad are after, right?” He whirled around to face Kalderasha, who was still staring in stunned amazement at the crystal ball, and asked urgently “Wot else can ya see?”

“What else...? Let me look deeper. Yes, the clouds are... Wait, what’s that?” Kalderasha exclaimed, picking up the crystal ball and examining it. “There’s a chip in my crystal ball! It must have hit something incredibly hard to do this damage!” He and Yangus exchanged glances. “And look! Someone has scratched some letters next to the chip... It says- WHAT? **HALFWIT!? Who’s the halfwit!?** What ignorant lowlife would do this to my crystal ball!?”

“Eh? When I said wot can you see, I meant wot’s **in** ya crystal ball, not wot’s **on** it! Ah, forget it. Guv, we gotta tell this to granddad right away!”

“Right.” He turned to Kalderasha and hastily rattled off the Closing Rites of Hospitality. “Many thanks for your most gracious Hospitality, Good Host. May the Lady look upon your household with kindness, and allow it to prosper and flourish.”

“Safe journey, Honoured Guest” Valentina replied promptly. “May the Goddess watch over you on your journey, and keep your path smooth and easy.”

“Thank you for everything, you’ve been a great help. I’ll explain about the chip another time.” He turned back to Yangus. “Let’s go!” And with that they raced out the door, leaving Valentina and Kalderasha staring after them.

“I did not foresee this at all… Maybe I am losing my touch?”

\-----

Holy Goddess have mercy on them.

When Kalderasha had told them he could see Dhoulmagus breaking through the north-eastern checkpoint, he hadn’t truly appreciated what that meant. Of course, he’d known that the checkpoints had been built centuries ago marking the regional borders within Trodain, the gates used to control trade and try and limit the movement of bandits. As part of his training in the Royal Honour Guard he’d been taught that each gate was manned by ten guards, five for the day and five for the night. He’d even been through a checkpoint when he was younger, not that he remembered much of it, but he’d been awed by the size and strength of it – to his inexperienced eyes, it had seemed invincible.

This one was no different, all of them built to a common design: two stone gateways at either end of a bridge, sealed with two stout wooden doors fastened with an equally thick wooden bar that could be reinforced with an iron portcullis at a moment’s notice. This checkpoint had been built over the River Noor, one of the Northern Continent’s largest rivers, deliberately placed in one of the few areas where it could be crossed to control traffic between Yeaminster and Wentworth. It was rare that the guards at any checkpoint would ever stop anyone from going through, but those who did had to pay a toll. Of course the borders between the two regions weren’t patrolled, but to avoid the toll you’d have to leave the roads and face monsters and dangers far worse than the small fee the guards charged, so most paid up. He’d assumed that Dhoulmagus had been one of these few, either unwilling to pay or feeling strong enough to drive off any monsters foolish enough to attack him.

However it was clear he was wrong the moment they arrived at the checkpoint; Kalderasha hadn’t meant Dhoulmagus had broken past the checkpoint without being seen, he’d meant Dhoulmagus had **literally** broken through.

A hole had been blown through two wooden doors in the first gateway, the edges charred and burnt and the doors hanging off their hinges, splinters of wood and stone scattered everywhere. The first gate’s portcullis was still raised, some of the bars warped by the heat; the attack must have come so suddenly the guards hadn’t been able to lower it in time. They had dropped the portcullis on the other side of the bridge, clearly intending to trap Dhoulmagus in the killing ground between the gates, but the iron portcullis had been pulled from its foundations and ripped apart as if torn by two giant hands, each half now lying on either side of the gate it had been guarding. The second gate’s doors had been blown clean off their hinges, coming to rest against the trees on the other side of the clearing, while the guardhouse where the soldiers lived had a hole blasted straight through it, even destroying a tree on the other side, causing part of it to collapse.

It was deathly silent despite the late hour, the local wildlife and even the local monster population were giving this place a wide berth, as if they still feared whatever monstrous power that had done this. The Princess pulled up short and whickered softly to herself as they all stared in disbelief. While the checkpoints were hardly invincible, to see one reduced to **this** by one man... Even Yangus could only whisper an inadequate ‘Cor blimey’ under his breath.

There was no sign of the guards, which he hoped meant that they’d survived Dhoulmagus’ attack and had fled to safety, and this time King Trode didn’t appear to disagree with their decision; in fact the King was looking rather pale, a sickly green instead of his usual darker shade.

He and Yangus pulled off their leather helmets and they all bowed to pray for the safety of the guards, and then they prayed for their own safety and for the strength to bring Dhoulmagus to justice. They kept their prayers short, as they felt exposed standing next to the ruined checkpoint, and started walking slowly across the bridge.

Their footsteps echoed unnaturally in the unnerving silence, and as soon as they were across they wordlessly picked up the pace. They would camp very far from the checkpoint tonight.

\-----

“Fellow Traveller! Fellow Traveller!”

Trode pulled the hood further over his face and shrank back into the wagon. Previous experience had proved that people were alarmed at his appearance and often shrank back from approaching them if they saw him. The boy’s explanation of a fictitious skin disease, the details of which had been helpfully provided by Valentina at her father’s prompting, checked the more violent reactions but certainly did nothing to disguise his appearance or reassure intimidated strangers. He had found it necessary to withdraw into silence to avoid attracting attention and leave the talking to the boy. However this presented its own problems, and he feared that one of the greatest problems with the boy’s leadership was about to present itself once again.

“Well met, fellow traveller” the boy replied, instinctively reverting to the Rites of Hospitality. “Do you travel far, or is your destination in sight? You are welcome to travel with us, wherever you may be headed.”

“Truly, I don’t know” the girl gasped now that she’d caught her breath, throwing the boy completely. “Sorry, but I’m looking for my younger brother. He went out yesterday to his uncle’s, but he never returned! We thought he’d stayed the night with him, but I went this morning and he said he left yesterday well before dark, and it shouldn’t have taken him long to come home and I’m worried something might’ve happened to him! You don’t think monsters could’ve... No, I mustn’t think that. They can’t have, or...”

“Wait, wait, slow down” the boy broke in at last – he’d feared the lad would let the girl carry on forever. “What does your brother look like, and when did he go?” Good practical questions – he could shape up yet.

“...I’m sorry” the girl said, taking a deep breath. As she recovered herself Trode took the opportunity to observe the girl more closely. On further consideration she was probably a woman now or close to it, not far above his Medea in age, yet her appearance and countenance could not have been more contrasted. Where his Medea was tall and slender, this girl was short and dumpy; where his Medea had straight jet-black hair this girl’s was a curly dark brown; where his Medea had beautiful refined features, this girl was plain and freckled. Still for all that she was not ugly, and he could understand the boy’s compulsion to help such a girl in distress.

“He’s a few years younger and smaller than me, a little on the stocky side, and with the same dark hair. He’s wearing his brown tunic for work and play in. Please, have you seen him?”

“Sorry, we’ve not seen anyone that age on the road” the boy replied, shaking his head. “But then, if he’d been on the road, he’d be able to find his way back home, right?” A fair observation, if not exactly eloquent.

The girl slumped. “Ah! I hadn’t thought of that... It’s just that, I was so worried...”

“No, no, I understand” the boy soothed, discreetly signalling Yangus to bring out the stool, which he did promptly. As the lad sat the overwrought girl down Yangus brought out the tea stored in the skin that the boy had cast a lesser preservation spell on, and they poured some out now for the girl to drink. As she calmed down the boy finally asked his questions. “How long has your brother been missing?”

“Since yesterday” the girl replied. “He set out to visit our uncle yesterday midmorning and stayed for lunch, helping uncle with a few things that can’t be done by one man, but he left long before dark at around the ninth hour. It’s only a half hour journey, but no-one’s seen him since.”

“Does he like playing around when he gets the chance, climbing trees and things like that?”

“Never for this long! He’d never stay out overnight, it’s not safe!”

“I know, I know. I’m just trying to work out where he might’ve gone. Is there somewhere nearby where he would go? A stream or a tall tree between your house and your uncle’s or something?”

“...There’s one tree on top of a hill. It’s very big and overlooks the rest of the forest” the girl began thoughtfully. “We used to go there when we were younger, for picnics and things. He did always use to love climbing it, but now we help with the farm we don’t have as much time to visit as we used to. You don’t think...?”

“Sounds perfect. Let’s go!”

Here we go...

“You mean... you’ll help?” the girl said eagerly, rising to her feet. Yangus quietly put the stool back in the wagon.

“Of course! How could I not!?” the boy replied, a touch more enthusiastically than was proper. “Show us where this tree is, and we’ll see what we can find!”

“Oh thank you!” the girl cried, tackling him with a big hug that nearly knocked him off his feet. “I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you!”

“Hey, easy! We’ve not found him yet!” Amusingly the boy didn’t seem to know what to do, flushing with embarrassment and trying to fend her off. Had he been in the boy’s shoes he would have taken the opportunity to enjoy the situation a little more, but then that was why the boy was still a boy, not yet quite mature enough to fully appreciate the female form. Ah well, he would learn.

More importantly there was another thing that he wanted the boy to learn, a lesson that was far more pressing. Signalling to him, the boy obediently asked the girl to lead the way, falling back to the wagon as soon as it was safe to do so. The boy had learned to be discreet, he would give him that. However there was one thing he needed to learn much more urgently.

“Boy” he began, “I trust you know the importance of our quest.”

“Of course, Sire!”

“And you realise the pressing need to catch up with Dhoulmagus before he escapes our grasp?”

“Of course, Sire!”

“Then please, tell me, why do you keep stopping to help anyone and everyone on our path!?”

“Because of my oath Sire!” The boy actually sounded surprised at the question.

“Your oath?” he echoed, rather non-plussed. Medea whickered, but he could not interpret what she was trying to say.

“That’s right, the oath I swore when I joined the Royal Guard: to serve the Trodain Royal Family, the Kingdom and its people in all that I do; to help all those in need, no matter how big or small the task; to put the needs of the many above the needs of the few; to spread Peace and Harmony across the land, in accordance with the Goddess’ will. Solib.”

SINCE WHEN HAD THAT BEEN THE OATH OF THE ROYAL GUARD!? Yangus shot him a curious look, and he just shook his head. Medea whickered again, and this time he knew precisely what she meant and the two of them sighed with her. Of all the guards in Trodain, why did they have to have the only idealist foolish enough to put such a grandiose oath into practice? This was going to be a long journey...

“By the way, my name’s Jay, and this is Yangus” Jay introduced. He decided to leave out the King for now, as naming him would attract too much attention.

“Oh, I’m sorry, where are my manners?” the girl next to him flushed. “I’m Elsie Richardsdau, I live on the outskirts of Wivelsfield. Ah! The Rites!”

“Rest easy, you’re welcome to travel with us” he reassured her. “The Goddess does allow us to put the Rites aside in times of distress, you know.”

“Yes, but now that I’ve calmed down... Fellow traveller, my path is unsure and my destination uncertain, but I would welcome your companionship wherever our paths may take us.”

“Then join with us in friendship as long as our paths cross. You are most welcome, Elsie.”

“My thanks, Jay.”

“Well, for now our path leads us to this tree you used to picnic under. Is it far?”

“...A little, just over forty minutes from here. Do you see the tree? It’s that one there.”

He followed her finger to a copse of trees in the distance, and quickly calculated how far it was. It shouldn’t take them as long as all that if they picked up the pace a little – the only trouble would be getting the wagon through the forest.

The Princess snorted just then, showing what she thought of that idea, so he bowed his head in apology and turned off the road, leading them into the forest. And while roots and bushes did make it a little tricky sometimes, the wagon was small and light enough that it wasn’t too much bother. He worried that it would be tough on the Princess, but she huffed at him when he checked on her so eventually he let her get on with it – he’d make sure she got a good rubdown at the end of the day.

Once inside the forest it was much darker and more forbidding than it appeared from the outside, mainly because the dense foliage meant that very little light got through. And of course there were plenty of monsters that had made their home here, though they weren’t that much tougher than the ones around Farebury. Thanks to his practice with Yangus they were able to handle them without too much difficulty, but he didn’t fancy the chances for a young boy on his own.

“How old is your brother?”

“He’s eleven, just about old enough to travel on his own, but not very far” Elsie answered, apparently thinking along the same lines. “Usually we just outrun the local monsters – they don’t chase us very far.”

“We can’t do that with the wagon – it’d be terrible strain on our horse, and the wagon for that matter.”

“Oh no, not at all. I’m just saying I’m impressed how you’re able to fight off all these monsters.”

“Well, practice makes perfect. After a while monsters tend to steer clear of those who know how to fight – like we can tell which monsters are strong, they can tell which of us are strong.”

“So do you think we should fight these monsters instead of running away?”

“I don’t know – I don’t live here. Is it worth fighting monsters, or would it take too much time? It depends on what you’re doing, and how many of you there are.”

“Well, for my family it’s just my parents, my uncle, my brother and me. But we have plenty of neighbours in Wivelsfield, and we help each other.”

“Like now?”

“Mm. Mum and dad are out searching the forest with half the neighbours while the others look after the village and the farms. ...I was supposed to be one of them, but I couldn’t just sit there and not do anything when my brother was out there!”

“Of course not” he soothed.

“It’s such a pity those guards aren’t still here – they’d have been a great help” Elsie sighed.

“Guards?”

“Yes, the guards from the western checkpoint – they came here after that jester broke through.”

“Jester?” he spluttered, sensing the others’ attention rather than seeing or hearing it. There could only be one person she was describing – Dhoulmagus.

“I know, crazy, isn’t it?” Elsie agreed, misunderstanding his shock. “But all ten of them swore blind that the man who ripped the checkpoint apart was dressed as a jester.”

“But they’re okay? The guards?”

“Oh yes” Elsie confirmed, to his relief. “The jester didn’t go after them; their only injuries were from when he blew up the guardhouse the other watch was sleeping in. By the time the others dug them out of the rubble, the jester was already gone. They split up to look for him – one watch went north to check the caves at the bottom of the High Peaks while the other followed the road south. The south group was here a few days ago, and stayed the night in the village.”

“So where are they now?”

“When they heard we’d seen the jester they sent a couple of men back to fetch the other watch while the other three followed the jester. But I don’t know what they’re going to do when they catch up with him, if he can rip solid iron apart like that.”

Neither did he... but it wasn’t worth thinking about that now. “We came from the checkpoint ourselves, actually.”

“You did? Was it like they said? The gates blown to pieces and the portcullis torn apart and everything?”

“Yeah. It was... quite a sight. Even the monsters were keeping their distance, and that was five days back.”

“I hope those guards are okay.” Elsie crossed herself, and he added his prayers to hers. After that they fell silent, the climb steep enough to leave them too short of breath to continue talking until they reached the top of the hill, where a large tree stood alone in solitary splendour.

“So this is the tree. I can see why you like it.” It was beautiful – the gap in the tree line let you see for miles, with the road cutting its way through the plains and disappearing into the rolling hills, farms carved out into the wild landscape. To the northeast the High Peaks loomed with the Eastern Sea beyond them, and to the west lay River Noor or one of its smaller branches, and if he climbed the tree he could probably see much of the Wentworth region laid out before him. This place would make a good lookout post.

“Knackerin' gettin' up ‘ere though, eh?” Yangus wheezed.

“Yes. I swear it never used to be this tiring when I was younger” Elsie panted.

There! That was what he was looking for! A tree as large as this one, and with plenty of low-hanging branches that made it easy to climb up, would be an irresistible lure for a young boy – it certainly had been for him. And a broken branch lying on the ground a small distance away, with a large indent in the mud around it, was enough to prove what he’d guessed had happened.

“He must’ve fallen from up there” he told them, pointing to the broken stub of the branch higher up the tree.

“That would be quite a fall” King Trode commented.

“Ah, ‘e’s young – ‘e’ll be fine” Yangus reassured them. “They bounce.”

“Mm – he did get up again after all” he pointed out, gesturing to the lack of blood and the staggered footprints leading down the hill. “And what would happen if he came home after climbing and falling out of trees?” He knew what had happened when he came back like that.

“They would’ve told him off for getting his clothes dirty... You think he went to clean his clothes then?” Elsie asked.

“Wouldn’t you? Where’s the nearest river, a good place to wash in?”

“This way.”

Going down the hill was a lot easier than going up, and on the way they saw a footprint here and there showing they were on the right track – her brother had definitely come this way. The only question was why didn’t he come back? And he had a bad feeling he knew the answer.

The river wasn’t as far as the hill had been, but it wasn’t exactly close, and it was nearing another half hour before they arrived. Unsurprisingly Elsie’s brother wasn’t there waiting for them, but there on a low-hanging branch lay a cloak hanging forlornly. “Ricky’s cloak! He was here!” Elsie gasped, running over to it.

“The question is, where did he go without it?” King Trode murmured, and Jay nodded as he and Yangus waded into the shallows. The river was fairly fast-flowing, but not enough to drag someone off so long as they were conscious, and the riverbank was easily gentle enough to climb. So the fact that Elsie’s brother hadn’t returned for his cloak implied-

“Guv! Over there!”

And there they were – a track of muddy footprints sprinting out of the water, followed by several other prints. Prints that weren’t human. It was just as he’d feared.

Elsie let out a strangled cry. “You don’t think-”

He didn’t answer, just waded across the river and followed the prints as quick as he could. It was silly, rushing now when those prints were nearly a day old, but no-one could just casually sit back when someone was at the mercy of monsters.

It was clear to see where Elsie’s brother had gone, he and his pursuers had ripped a hole through the tangled undergrowth. The roots and branches were constantly trying to trip them and hold them back, but he and Yangus barged their way through and he could hear the Princess pulling the wagon as hard as she could up the hill. He could see traces of blood now – only a little bit here and there, but it was enough to make him run all the faster. He could only hope they weren’t too late, but if he had been missing all night...

There! The tracks led to a cave, not all that far from the river, and around it was a hoard of monsters. And there were an awful lot of them... nearly twenty in all. The Fencing Foxes were bad enough on their own despite their foppish appearance, quick on their feet and armed with stolen swords, but they had some Funghouls and Drackmages with them as well, both types of monster that could put them to sleep with a single spell. On top of that, a couple of Hammerhoods and some Spiked Hares had shown up, and both groups could do a lot of damage if they were lucky. Fortunately the groups were fighting with each other, but that would change as soon as they saw a lone couple of humans...

Abruptly he heard Elsie and Yangus crashing through the forest behind him, and he saw the monsters look their way. He only had a few moments.

“Elsie!” He needed a distraction, otherwise she’d insist on staying, but all he had was some medicinal herbs, cheese and- That’s it! “Take Munchie back to the wagon!”

Elsie pulled up short in surprise, instinctively taking Munchie as he thrust him into her hands. “A field mouse? Is he a pet?”

“That’s right, I shouldn’t have left him in my pocket all this time. Tell... Tell our driver to hold onto him until we get back home.” The King would know why he’d given up Munchie now; he’d be able to hold Elsie back until it was all over.

“Okay” Elsie agreed, doing as he asked without question. Good, now she was out of the way.

“Guv?”

“Don’t call me that.”

“You’ve always ‘ad Munchie in yer pocket, even when we fight. Wot’s up?”

“There’s a lot of them. As soon as they see us, break for the cave. It’s our only chance.”

Yangus nodded, unfazed. “And the old codger and the ‘orse-princess?”

“They’ll have to make their own way from now on.”

Time was up – the monsters had spotted them, and the front-runners were nearly on top of them. He and Yangus charged forwards, each aiming for one of the Drackmages and striking the green bat-like monsters down before they had a chance to attack. They didn’t stop though, leaping over the top of the Spiked Hares and dodging past the Hammerhoods and the Funghouls before they could react. They didn’t get past unscathed however, the Fencing Foxes reacting quickly enough to land a few blows with their swords, and the two of them stumbled inside the cave hoping against hope there was nothing else inside.

They were lucky – all the monsters had been fighting each other outside, otherwise one might have ripped out their throats before they even knew it was there. It wasn’t a large cave, which was good as it meant the monsters outside wouldn’t be able to attack them all at once, but it was a little dark which might give the monsters an advantage.

Wait, that crack! There was someone inside! A boy? Elsie’s brother! So, this was why the monsters were still gathered outside – her brother was still alive! And as long as he was in that crack, the monsters couldn’t reach him, the Drackmages too round and the other monsters too big or small to reach. Still, there was a lot of blood beneath it – the smell was probably why such a large group of the monsters had been attracted here in the first place – he could only hope the boy was okay.

No time to check now – the monsters had recovered from their surprise and started their attack. The four Fencing Foxes were in the lead barring the cave mouth, the three Funghouls and two Hammerhoods behind them. There were another three Drackmages still flapping above them, and there were four or so Spiked Hares scattered about... There were just too many of them, even if he and Yangus had been fresh.

No time to think – just defend. He dodged a lunge from one of the Fencing Foxes, parrying its blade as he slammed his leather shield into its face and forced it back. The monster stumbled, but before he could take advantage of this another of the humanoid foxes struck him in the shoulder. He twisted round and slashed at it, driving it back, but the wound would cost him.

Yangus blocked the entrance while he slapped a quick medicinal herb on his wounds to numb the pain, but Yangus abruptly fell as one of the Drackmages flew down and put him to sleep. He jumped forward before the monsters could kill him, actually stepping on Yangus to strike at the Drackmage before throwing himself at the advancing Foxes. He focused on the injured one first, finishing it off, then doing his best to ward off the vengeful blows of the other Foxes. He wasn’t fast enough to block all three Foxes’ attacks though, and he took a few more wounds as they drove him back.

Then Yangus was there, waking and running to the rescue, smashing into the Foxes with his mallet. Yangus brought down two of the Foxes, and would have killed the third had a Hammerhood not smashed him over the head with its massive hammer. Yangus fell to the floor, so it was his turn to leap to the rescue, cutting down the last of the Fencing Foxes and driving off the Hammerhood. He just had time to heal Yangus before one of the Funghouls tackled him, knocking him onto the ground painfully. He kicked the mushroom-like being off and struggled back to his feet, but before he could pick up his sword the tiny Hammerhood came back and smashed into him with its oversized hammer, throwing him against the wall and almost making him black out. Those little things were much stronger than they looked!

Fortunately Yangus stepped in again, hammering the Hammerhood to the floor before it could do any more damage. They then focused on the other, killing it before it had a chance to attack, and drove off the Spiked Hares that had charged into the cave. He healed Yangus’ wounds again before tending his own with the medicinal herbs as a sickly sweet-

No! Not now! He clapped a hand over his mouth as one of the Funghouls breathed a sickly sweet smell into the cave. It was too late though – already he could feel his limbs growing heavier as the spores started to put him to sleep. Yangus fell to his knees, struggling to stay awake, but it was useless. As his vision began to grow dark he could see the final few monsters closing in to finish them off. They had been so close! If only they could have held out a little longer, they might have-

There was a sudden commotion from outside. Unable to see or move, he had no idea what was going on until something struck him. The pain was enough to overcome the sleep spores that had paralysed him, and he jumped up. And there, wielding a large cypress stick, was Elsie. She batted the last of the Drackmages into Yangus, waking him up too, then tossed the stick aside and drew her dagger as the Spiked Hares charged at her.

He snatched up his copper sword and ran to her, tackling the nearest of the Spiked Hares away and stabbing another. He was knocked over by one of the Funghouls, but he cut it down as he rose back to his feet, and then Yangus was there battering the remaining monsters with his mallet. Finally, the monsters had had enough and the survivors fled.

“Did you just send me away deliberately, even though you **knew** you were horribly outnumbered!?” Elsie thundered.

“Well, uh, yes” he admitted, too tired to think up of a decent excuse.

“ **WHY!?** ”

“Well, you’re not a fighter, and it didn’t make sense to put you in danger. With the wagon at least **you** might have been able to get home safely.”

Elsie glowered at him. “If you’d said it was because I’m a girl, I would’ve hit you.”

“So would my old partner, and then she’d have wiped the floor with me. Still, it worked out okay.”

“Luckily for you.” Elsie took a deep breath. “What about my brother?”

“Hiding in the cave.”

“He’s alive!?”

“I... haven’t had chance to check.”

Elsie gulped, but she followed him into the cave all the same. She paled at the sight of the blood on the floor, but she didn’t leave as he reached into the crack and slowly eased her brother out of it. It was difficult, as the boy had naturally forced himself as far into the crack as possible and there wasn’t a lot of space, but eventually he managed to get hold of a sleeve and once he had hold of his arm he was able to drag him out.

Now he was in the open he could see the boy looked a little like Elsie, with the same shade of hair and freckles, and even their faces looked similar. Right now he was a lot paler than Elsie though, and unconscious and in pain he looked very small and vulnerable. He laid a hand on him and reached out with his magic. “He’s alive.”

Elsie sagged with relief. “Is he going to be okay?”

“I’m not a Healer – I’ve never studied the healing arts – but yes, if we get him home he should be fine. He’s broken an arm and he’s got a number of smaller wounds and cuts, but nothing life-threatening. His lifeforce is strong – he’ll recover.”

“Oh thank you!” His concentration was suddenly broken as he was tackled with a big hug, actually knocking him over. “Thank you so much. I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you!”

“’ey, ease up now. The guv ain’t exactly in great nick ‘imself, y’know?”

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” Elsie gasped, jumping back up.

“It’s fine, it’s fine” he wheezed. “I’ll be okay, I just can’t cast healing magic on myself yet. I can’t say I can do much for your brother either, but I’ll do what I can.”

“Of course. Please, take your time.”

He got back up and reformed his focus, connecting with the boy’s life energy. Then, once he was sure of his connection, he gently nudged some of that life energy towards some of the cuts and bruises the boy had. The broken bone he left well alone – misapplied healing magic could have horrid consequences, and he didn’t want to cripple the boy for life when it would likely mend with time. He’d just encourage the boy’s body to heal some of the smaller wounds a little more quickly, and leave the rest for a more experienced Healer once the boy’s life energy had replenished itself.

He’d just sent some life energy towards the boy’s head to ease some bruising when he sensed the boy beginning to stir. He promptly withdrew his connection from him and took a few steps back, leaning heavily on Yangus as the effort of the last few minutes caught up with him. As he stepped back, so Elsie stepped forwards, leaning down towards her brother as he regained consciousness.

“Sis?” the boy groaned.

“Ricky, I’m so glad you’re okay” Elsie cried, wrapping him a tight hug before helping him sit upright. “How do you feel?”

“My arm’s real sore, and my body aches all over” Ricky said in a small voice. “And I’m thirsty. Hungry too.”

“Here.” King Trode handed Elsie a skin of water and some bread.

“Cor blimey!” Yangus yelped, almost dropping him in surprise.

“S-Sir-”

“Ssh, hush now” the King shushed.

“Better?” Elsie asked once she’d given Ricky some water and food.

“Mm” Ricky nodded. “Thanks sis.”

“Good.” Elsie slapped Ricky across the face. “What were you **thinking** , going off like that on your own!? You know how dangerous it is! If you’re travelling on your own, you don’t go messing about climbing trees and swimming, you come straight back, do you hear me!? If you want to play, go with your friends in your own time!”

“What?” he spluttered, watching Elsie suddenly lay into Ricky. “What she doing, he’s only just-”

“Don’t worry guv, she ain’t **really** angry – she’s just ventin’ all ‘er worries at ‘im, you know?”

“Huh?”

“Just let ‘er blow ‘erself out, or you’ll be caught in the firin’ line, know wot I mean?”

“Yeah. Girls are scary...”

“Heh, you can say that again.”

“Girls are scary...”

“...Guv, don’t do that.”

“Lad, I would like a word with you” Trode told the lad, beckoning him outside.

“Of course Sire.” The lad nodded, following him obediently. That was a good start. Now, where to begin. Ah yes.

“First, I believe this belongs with you.”

“Ah, Munchie!” The boy’s face lit up, taking his pet back in his hands and stroking him lovingly. Honestly, he did not see the appeal of having a rodent as a pet, but so long as the lad kept his ‘Munchie’ away when preparing the food he did not consider it worthwhile getting involved in the matter – if it kept the lad happy, then so much the better. Certainly ‘Munchie’ did not live up to his name, not seeming to need much other than the occasional chunk of cheese, so he had no objection. It was not what he was concerned about in any matter, so he should stop dallying and get on with it.

The question was – how?

“There were quite a few of them I see” he said at last, looking at the corpses around them.

“Yes. Not all of these are our doing – the monsters were fighting over the rights to eat Ricky, and the blood sent them into a frenzy – but there were twenty or so.”

“And that was why you sent the girl back?”

“Yes Sire – she’s not a fighter so I didn’t want to involve her unnecessarily, especially if we weren’t able to save her brother. I thought losing two children would be too much for the family to bear. And besides, it was the right thing to do.”

Ah, the ‘right thing to do’. He had heard that phrase many times, but never so often as in the last month. The lad would almost never do anything unless it was the right thing to do. He envied the lad’s naiveté – life was never quite that simple for him. To have such a conviction must be a great comfort during the trials of life, but it presented its own problems too, and it was time to check the lad before it went too far.

“And why did you not return to the wagon with her?” he asked, sensing the answer before the lad even gave it voice.

“The monsters had already noticed us – if we’d gone with her they’d have followed us to the wagon, and if those Drackmages or Funghouls had got lucky they could’ve killed us all.”

And so, once again, he did ‘the right thing’ – make a noble stand against the monster hoards while the weak and defenceless could make their escape. It was not a choice that could be made as easily as it sounded, yet the lad had done it without hesitation, and he suspected the lad would do it again just as easily. While it was good to know he could rely on the lad in a pinch, this could be a problem if not addressed promptly.

But how to make the lad see this without undermining his conviction? After all, he had come to suspect this drive to do ‘the right thing’ was quite possibly the driving factor behind his commitment to their journey rather than personal loyalty to him or his kingdom, no matter what oath he had sworn.

“Well, my apologies for not being quicker off the mark and preventing the girl from re-joining you” he said lightly. “It gave us quite a turn, when Elsie told us to ‘hold onto him until we get back home’. And of course, as soon as she said it the girl realised what you were actually saying and rushed back to help.”

“Well, it was a good thing that she did” the lad sighed. “We’d both be dead if she hadn’t come back when she did, so it worked out. If she’d been with us she’d have been hit with the sleep fumes as well, but as she wasn’t she was able to wake us before the monsters swarmed us, and then we were able to protect **her** before the monsters overwhelmed her.”

“How fortunate.” Good, the lad realised how close he had come to death.

“Yeah, we were very lucky – not only that, but the monsters were weakened from fighting each other, so we weren’t facing them at full strength. If we had it might’ve been a very different story. Thankfully the Lady was shining on us” the lad said gratefully, crossing himself and sending Her an appreciative prayer.

“Yes, but She cannot always; it would be against Her nature” he said quietly. “So I would ask that you not take such risks in the future, as it will not always end as well as it has today.”

The boy looked somewhat surprised, and a little confused. “But Sire, it is a soldier’s duty to risk his life on behalf of others.”

“Well, yes, I will not argue with that. However a great soldier knows when and where to risk his life, and when it is time to be prudent. Remember, your life is precious – you must only gamble it when the reward is truly worth the risk.”

“I don’t intend to sell my life cheaply. I actually thought I stood a better chance of surviving fighting the monsters from the cave than around the wagon” the lad said defensively. Perhaps it was time to just come out and say it.

“I will not dispute your analysis of the battle – I merely wish to remind you that you and Yangus are my only retainers; without your support our quest to restore my kingdom and my family from Dhoulmagus’ vile curse would be considerably more difficult. We have no-one else to rely on, remember. Had you fallen here, given my current appearance we would have been placed in a very difficult situation.”

“I’m sure Elsie would have spoken on your behalf.”

“Maybe so, but that would not be of much use outside of her village or in our hunt for Dhoulmagus.”

“Well, no, but the checkpoint guards would be coming past here – they’d be able to help.”

“Maybe so, but do you think they would be convinced by a farm girl’s testimony that their King had been turned into a monster and that he needed their help to lift a curse on the kingdom? Hm?”

“Uh, when you put it like that...”

“Precisely my point. Without you and Yangus, my daughter and I would be alone. And judging from the last couple of weeks I do not believe that such a journey would end well, do you?”

“No Sire.”

“That is why I ask you not to risk your life unless it is truly necessary – my daughter and I need your support, do you understand?”

“I-... Yes Sire.”

“Good. That is all.”

“Yes Sire.” The lad turned to leave, but he checked himself and turned back to him. “Sire, where is the Princess? She’s not alone, right?”

A whinny answered his question, and the lad rushed over to check on her, apparently concerned that she might have strained herself trying to pull the wagon through the forest. He could only sigh – he appreciated the lad’s thoughtfulness, but he would rather the lad considered his own needs sometimes. At this rate he would have to keep an eye on him.

“Thanks granddad” Yangus said quietly, walking over to join him.

“For what in particular?” he asked, ignoring the granddad comment for now.

“For looking out for the guv” the burly ex-bandit replied. “’e needs someone to remind ‘im to think ‘bout ‘imself sometimes, else ‘e’ll do ‘imself a mischief. ‘e ain’t even treated ‘is wounds yet.”

He hadn’t- That boy... He really was going to have to keep an eye on him! “It occurs to me that you knew what he was doing when he sent that girl away.”

“Yep.”

“And you did not try to stop him?”

Yangus shrugged. “Like the guv said, there weren’t much else we could do.”

“Still, there was nothing compelling you from not returning with her. Only one person is needed for a ‘last stand’ after all.”

“I ain’t yellow! I don’t go lookin’ for trouble, but I ain’t gonna run away from a fight and let someone else take me lumps. ‘sides, I sworn an oath that I’d follow the guv no matter wot, an’ I ain’t gonna welch on that even if the guv likes to put ‘imself in ‘arm’s way. S’matter of fact, I reckon the best thing I can do to repay the guv is ‘old ‘im back when ‘e gets carried away like, an’ make sure ‘e keeps ‘is feet on the ground. An’ if I can’t do that, then I can at least ‘elp ‘im outta wotever fix ‘e gets ‘imself in. That’s wot I think, anyway.”

“I see.” He paused. “Yangus?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

“...Like I said, I swore an oath. I ain’t lookin’ for thanks.”

“You have it anyway. It is your choice whether you accept it or not.”

“Well, alright then. Yer welcome granddad.”

“...Do **not** call me granddad.”

\-----

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long absence, I lost track of this with everything else going on.
> 
> I struggled with this chapter for quite a while - I needed something to close Farebury properly, but I didn't want it with the story at Alexandria, so for a long time it was a chapter of two pages, which was honestly a bit pathetic. So those familiar with the game will see that I added an additional scene between Farebury and Alexandria, partly to show how life goes on around the party's quest, but also to demonstrate the dangers of the road and demonstrate one of Jay's character flaws - constantly jumping in to help others. It's a necessary flaw for a videogame character (someone who doesn't do anything isn't very interesting to play), but one that was more an informed attribute in the last version. So, here's an example of how helping others heedless sometimes can go horribly wrong. And yes, Jay and Yangus came close this time.  
> Trode also gets to show some of his leadership skills, trying to work out how best to manage his overenthusiastic guard, and allowing Jay to see just how much he appreciates his service. I also thought it was a good opportunity to demonstrate Yangus' loyalty, and what it means to him, and for Yangus and Trode to connect a bit.
> 
> Another thing to mention is that Jay and Yangus grabbed new equipment at Farebury, and Yangus managed to make himself a stone axe. For the most part, I'm trying to keep things accurate to the game, so only the party will only have weapons and armour that are accessible at that point in the game, but I'm also trying to keep things realistic, so it needs to make sense that they were able to purchase/find it at that location. So they will be getting better stuff as their journey goes on, but only if there's a logical reason for it.
> 
> And yes, this is Munchie's first appearance. He's been around, but until now there wasn't really an opportunity for him to make an appearance - though I am now thinking of mentioning Jay picking him up in Trodain, but this is his debut chapter. Don't expect him to be featuring in many battles, he'll be helping in other ways.
> 
> Finally, SOLIB stands for SO Let It Be. Not that anyone remembers that anymore...
> 
> I hope you enjoy the chapter (particularly the original component) - please let me know what you think!


	7. The Damsel

“Halt! You look suspicious, I bet you’re bandits, aren’t you? You don’t fool us!”

What?

He looked around to see two young children burst out from the bushes and confront them, waving their wooden swords and shields made from pot lids. One wore an oversized horned helmet that must have been a family heirloom, while the other wore a saucepan stolen from his mother’s kitchen. It was a familiar sight of children at play he’d seen many times, but they didn’t usually look so grim.

“Come on Mash, let’s get them!” yelled the one with the horned helmet, the leader of the two, to which the one with the saucepan cried “Sure thing Bangers!”

What the- The two kids were actually attacking them! They were only using wooden swords, but the force behind them was real enough! “Stop that!” he snapped, swiping at the helmet-wearing boy. “That hurt!”

“Take this!”

“Ow!” That did it. As the boy lunged for his stomach again, he grabbed hold of the sword and tried to wrench it from his grasp.

“Leggo! Filthy murderer!” the boy snarled, kicking him in the shin as he struggled to hold onto the sword.

“If you can’t play nicely, you can’t have it!” he snapped, rapping him on the helmet.

“I’m not playing! I’m teaching you a-”

“Stop! Stop this at once!”

Now what? He nearly slackened his grip on the sword, but he gripped tight just before the boy snatched it from his grasp and started beating him with it again. No doubt now they’d be told off for fighting with-

“ **Bangers! Mash!** Leave those gentlemen alone, at once! You should be **ashamed** of yourselves, attacking travellers like that!” an old woman snapped, hobbling over to them as fast as her legs would allow. “Have you forgotten the ancient Rites of Hospitality, the core Teachings given to us by the Goddess Herself? They’ll think us heathens and barbarians!”

The two children (Bangers and Mash? What kind of names were those?) backed off, looking abashed. Well, the boy that had attacked Yangus, Mash, looked abashed – the leader Bangers looked rebellious. Still, he buckled down under the old woman’s glare and muttered something that could’ve been an apology. The old woman’s glare grew sharper and Bangers stiffened. “My most sincere apologies for the manner we have treated you, Fellow Traveller. Through our ignorance we have wronged you, and would seek to make amends. Please, let us put this unfortunate incident behind us, and continue on in friendship wherever our path may lead us.”

He’d never heard such an insincere reciting of the Rites before. But, however they’d been said, the boy had said them. The question was, would he respond or ignore them?

Was there really any doubt? Sure, he’d been shocked by the attack and had suffered a few bruises, but there was no lasting damage. And maybe the boy was being difficult and argumentative, but he was an adult and old enough to know better. He had every right to refuse the Rite of Apology, but how could the Goddess approve of such an action that would unnecessarily shame the town and get two young boys in trouble?

“All is forgotten” he replied. The look the old woman shot him showed she hadn’t missed what he’d cut out of the Rites, in particular the bit saying they didn’t need to apologise, and she quickly turned back to the two boys. “Right then, off with you. Didn’t Lady Jessica say she had a job for you?”

“Ah! I forgot!” Bangers cried, suddenly looking a lot more worried. He snatched back his sword and ran back into the village, calling for his friend over his shoulder as they went running after him.

“I do apologise about them” the old woman said once they’d been through the Rites, less formally but more sincerely than Bangers’ apology. “They’re good lads really, they’re not normally like that – they’re just taking Alistair’s death pretty hard.”

“Oh, I see. Come to think of it, they were calling us bandits and murderers. Was Alistair...”

“Yes, I’m afraid so” the old woman sighed. “We found him in the Tower of Alexandria two days ago, stabbed through the heart.”

“May the Goddess comfort you in your time of distress” he told her, crossing his arms and bowing in the holy gesture. “Know that the Goddess knows every story, and She will bring wrongdoers to justice, while those who earnestly follow the path of Harmony will be welcome at Her side.”

“Thank you. We’ve every confidence Alistair will be welcomed by the Goddess with open arms. He was such a good lad, kind and generous, a courageous warrior and gracious leader. He spent his whole life helping others without a thought of himself.”

“He sounds like a great man” he said wistfully.

“Oh, he was, he was” the old woman agreed. “He was our Champion and defender. Without him...”

That... that **stupid old woman!** Why had she told him that!? Now he knew that the village’s Champion was dead, and so the village was vulnerable – and him a stranger at a time when an outsider would be blamed for the murder! Already she was looking at him worriedly, wondering whether he would betray the village to bandits, and if they got wind of King Trode’s appearance... This was like Farebury all over again. Goddess help him, what was he going to do?

“What happened?” he asked, knowing he had to say something. It was an obvious enough question to ask.

“We don’t know. He went out patrolling one day, and he never came back. He did sometimes camp out overnight, but never on his own and not without warning, so we got worried and sent out a search party – that was yesterday. Anyway, when they got to the Tower of Alexandria, they found the door open. The Tower of Alexandria is that way” she added, seeing his blank look. “It marks the centre of the old village before we had to move, and we go on pilgrimage to the shrine at the top of the tower once a year.

“The thing is, to keep it safe from thieves the Tower is guarded by a trick door that only the villagers know how to open, so seeing the door open like that got us worried. So we went in, and at the top of the tower, inside the shrine, we found Alistair... dead. Stabbed through the heart. He probably disturbed some bandits who’d broken into the Tower, and they killed him for it.”

“How could such a man be killed in such a way?” he sighed.

“I don’t know. But when we find the murderer, we’ll balance the books” the old woman said grimly. “He may have been our champion, but out here in the wilds we all know how to fight – they won’t get off lightly.”

In other words, what she was saying was Alexandria could defend itself; a little late to say that now after she’d told him their Champion was dead. There was no way out of it now; they’d need to stay the night. “Talking of fighting, do you have an armoury or blacksmith here? We were thinking of upgrading our equipment, and we’ll need more supplies for the road ahead.”

“We have a general store; just head straight on and you’ll come to it in the centre of the village – you can’t miss it.”

“Thank you, you’ve been very helpful. May the Goddess bless your household as your story unfolds.”

“And may She guide your path and keep you safe” the woman replied, and with the Rites concluded they went their separate ways. Still, he felt the villagers’ eyes on him as he walked into the village and he knew they’d have to be very careful. Not least because-

“Rum business guv” Yangus murmured. “This lot are all ready to kick off, they’re all on edge.”

“Don’t call me that! And you don’t have to tell me that, I can see it for myself.”

“I’m just sayin’ I reckon we should get outta ‘ere, proper fast like.”

“We do that and they might send someone to follow us, just to make sure we don’t tell anyone. And if they see King Trode-”

“They’ll think granddad’s a monster, an’ we’re in league wiv ‘im.”

“And we’ll be strung up faster than you can say ‘mob’” he finished grimly. “No, we’re staying here the night, and we need to look like nothing more than ordinary travellers.”

“So that’s why we’re ‘eadin’ for the shops, eh?”

“Well, what can be more normal than buying supplies?”

“Yeah, well, I wouldn’t get yer ‘opes up guv – this ain’t ‘xactly the place for quality merchendices.”

“I know, I know, but our gear isn’t exactly ‘top-notch’ either – we might as well give it a look.”

“If you say so guv.”

“I told you, don’t-”

“Welcome to my store, Fellow Travellers. May I be of service?”

“Yes, yes you can” he replied once he’d gotten over the shock of such a tall and broad man appearing so suddenly.

“Sorry, I did not mean to startle you” the burly shopkeeper apologised, beckoning them into his store. “I saw some unfamiliar faces from my window, and I knew you would be looking for my shop – all visitors do, sooner or later, and I know everyone in the village.”

He invited them to sit at a small table in the corner of the room, the rest of the wooden cabin filled with bits and pieces of merchandise, and brought out the tea he had prepared. “Welcome, travellers. You must be weary from your journey” the shop owner began. “Please, make yourself welcome; my home is your home. If you are thirsty, share my drink. If you are hungry, share my food. If you are tired, rest with me in safety. Stay with me in friendship, until the time that your journey must continue.”

“Blessings be upon your home, Good Host. May the Goddess watch over your household in your time of distress” he replied. “Our journey is long, and our destination uncertain, but we would gladly accept your offer. We need no food nor place to rest, but I welcome your offer of drink and friendship.”

“Then please, sit with me, and let us drink together.” The merchant poured them each a small cup of tea, and they all took a sip to conclude the Rites. “So, you’ve heard about Lord Alistair.”

“Yes, we- **Lord** Alistair? We had heard he was your champion, but not that he was a Helm.”

“Oh yes, he was son and heir of the Albert family – they’re the local landowners.”

“The Albert family? Not the merchant family?”

“The very same” the merchant nodded.

“The heir to the great Albert family, acting as Champion for a small remote village – it sounds like something from fairy tale” he sighed. “I would’ve liked to meet him.”

“This has been the Albert family home ever since its founding. The Albert family have always had strong links with the rest of the village; despite their wealth and Ascension to Helms, they’ve always looked out for us. And Lord Alistair was a great man, a real hero; he was always going out on patrols, looking to head off any monsters before they got to the village, going to escort merchants to and from the village – he was a gift from the Goddess Herself.”

“Is it really that dangerous around here? I mean, there’s the stockade around the village and you’ve diverted the river to form a moat – are monsters really that much of a problem?”

“Well, we’re rather isolated out here, so the monsters sometimes gather in numbers to attack us. And we do get a few opportunists who want to try their luck raiding the village.”

“Lord Alistair’s death must be a real problem for you then. I wish there was something we could do to help.”

“You needn’t worry – it’s the wrong season for that sort of attacks, and we can defend ourselves easily enough” the merchant assured him, brushing aside his discreet offer just as he knew he would – no-one would offer a stranger without any reference a job like that, regardless of the Teachings. “The real problem is that Lord Alistair would keep an eye out for travellers as well; sometimes the monsters round here catch travellers from Central Trodain off guard.”

“I have noticed there seem to be more monsters on the road lately. And they do seem to be getting stronger.”

“They’ll be stronger still to the south of us. The Solomon region in particular is filled with monsters.”

“The southwest has always had a problem with monsters; you have to be quite hardy to live there.”

“The Eastern Continent ain’t ‘xactly a walk in the park either guv” Yangus mentioned.

“Mm. Actually, other than the usual supplies I was wondering if you had any armour. I was given this lovely suit of leather armour recently, and it’s really made a difference. Yangus tends to shrug off most monster attacks and injuries, but I was wondering if you had anything that might fit. Something low-budget?”

“Well, his broad frame does give me a few problems – I don’t have much in his size, and I doubt you’ll be staying long enough to make something new.”

“I wouldn’t be able to pay for a custom piece of work anyway.”

“Well... if you’re willing to stay overnight, I could probably rework some leather I was going to make into a skirt for one of the locals into a kilt” the merchant said thoughtfully. “The skirt can wait, and a kilt would provide greater protection than your clothes.”

“How much would that cost us?”

“Well, considering the work I’ll have to do tonight, plus the cost of the materials... two hundred and forty gold coins.”

“Two hundred and forty? That’s a lot of coin for a small amount of protection...”

“It’s the work that I charge for. Whether you feel the price is worth the protection is up to you.” The shopkeeper wasn’t much of a salesman. The thing was, their clothes were suffering from all the fighting, and without some form of armour he might end up paying more for clothes than he did for the armour. Still, it was a lot of coin, especially when you didn’t have any income...

“Sometimes offence is the best defence – would you like to look at some of my weapons?”

Maybe the shopkeeper was a salesman. “Certainly.”

“Now, if you’re on a budget I can’t show you any of the metalwork, but I do have a stone axe...”

“I’m sorry, I’m afraid Yangus already made himself one of those.” He gestured to Yangus, who pulled the axe out of its holster and showed it to the shopkeeper.

“...Good work, for a non-professional” the shopkeeper nodded. “I could make a few improvements, but it’s a solid weapon you’ve made yourself there. Do you have any others?”

“Nah, just that for now. I could rustle up another in a couple o’ days though, if I ‘found the right stone for it – I got another shaft all ready fer it.”

“Pity, I’d offer you a good price if you did. And I see you’ve already got a giant mallet, so how ab-”

“Say, what’s that?”

“Ah, you have a good eye. The boomerang is a very versatile weapon for those skilled in its use – it can be used as a bludgeoning weapon for close quarters fighting of course, but its main purpose is long range attacks, excellent for those monsters that like to hang out of reach and cast spells. Those really skilled in using it can make it hit more than one opponent, and I’ve heard that some can make it come back to them.”

“...And how much is it?”

“Ordinarily... four hundred gold coins.”

“I can’t afford that” he said bluntly, shaking his head. “Not for a weapon I might not be able to use.”

“I’ve had a lot of customers say that. And again, since the materials aren’t that expensive and I’m mostly charging for the work, I would consider dropping the price.”

“To a hundred gold coins?”

“No.”

“It was worth a try. Two hundred then?”

“I was thinking more three hundred.”

“Two hundred and fifty?”

“Two hundred and eighty.”

“How about five hundred for both the kilt and the boomerang?”

“Done.” The shopkeeper agreed, and they shook on it.

“Excellent. Now, that doesn’t leave us a lot of coin for supplies... We need food for three weeks travel, some cheese, some medicinal herbs and some bandages, and I have... this much left.” He and Yangus brought out the coin from their various pouches, emptying the last of the funds he’d brought from Trodain. He’d managed to make it last by doing favours in return for free meals and camping out on the way, but he could only make the coin stretch so far.

“Hm. Tell you what, I can give you five loaves of travel bread, two dozen cuts of dried meat, a couple of bags of vegetables and herbs and three rolls of bandages, plus the kilt and the boomerang, in exchange for that stone axe and two hundred and thirty gold coins. And since you’ve bought so much, I’ll throw the medicinal herbs in for free.”

“Thank you, you’ve been very fair.” He counted out the coins as Yangus handed over his axe and the shopkeeper gathered their supplies, packing them all into a few small bags. Yangus took the food while he took his new boomerang, and they made arrangements to pick up the kilt the next day. All that was left was the Rites, and then they would be on their way.

“Before you go, you might want to visit the Albert family” the shopkeeper suggested. “If you’re short in cash, they might have an errand for you.”

“Thanks for the advice.” Rather than tell everyone they were pursuing a murderer they’d found it easier to say they were looking for work, so the assumption didn’t offend him, and Goddess knew they needed the coin. The only problem was time... “Many thanks for your most gracious Hospitality, Good Host. May the Lady look upon your household with kindness, and allow it to prosper and flourish.”

“Safe journey, Honoured Guest. May the Goddess watch over you on your journey, and keep your path smooth and easy.”

“We’ll see you tomorrow” he called as he left the shop just in case anyone might overhear, then they made their way out of the village while he talked about testing his new boomerang. Hopefully that would discourage any suspicions, but they better warn the King quick, just in case.

It didn’t take them long to find the king, even though they took a roundabout route just in case anyone was following them. Then, pretending to throw his boomerang too far, he went to the wagon to meet the King while Yangus kept an eye out.

“What is it lad? What is going on?” the King asked, his eyes scanning the bushes.

“Nothing yet Sire, we’re just being cautious. There’s been a death in the village.”

“I assume there is more to it than that.”

“Yes Sire – the dead man was their Champion, and he was murdered.”

“So the villagers are on edge, and you fear that if we are seen we might be targeted like we were at Farebury” the King surmised, sighing. “Very well, I will move the wagon further from the village. Anything else?”

“Well, because the old woman accidentally told us about their Champion’s death, they may worry we’ll bring bandits down on them – apparently there’s a problem with raiders in these parts.”

“Raiders? In my kingdom? I know this area is remote, but I thought I had put paid to banditry a few years past!” King Trode said indignantly. “But why ever would they think you mixed up with bandits?” At that moment Yangus came through the bushes. “Oh.”

“Looks like we’re in the clear guv, I don’t reckon we’ve been followed.”

“Thanks Yangus. Maybe I’m getting paranoid.”

“No, I appreciate your concern” the King told him. “We only have to be careless once, and the fury of the mob could crash down upon us. ‘Better be safe than sorry’ as they say.”

“Yes Sire. With that in mind I visited the village shop to buy some supplies” he replied as Yangus put the supplies in the wagon. “I also bought Yangus a leather kilt to provide some extra protection, and this boomerang.”

“Ah, yes, I was surprised to see that appear out of the bushes. Boomerangs can be very useful – I remember using one myself, in my travelling days. But I do not remember them being particularly cheap – what condition are our finances in?”

“Well, we managed to save some coin by selling Yangus’ axe-”

“Good Heavens, you mean someone was interested in the thing?”

“Yeah granddad. ‘e paid a good three ‘undred or so for it, didn’t he guv?”

“Don’t call me guv... And yes, we got a fairly good exchange for it. Still, we’ve probably only got enough for one more supply stop, maybe two if we cut back, and that’s it.”

The King sighed. “If only Guildmaster Rylus were alive, we could have relied on him to provide us with the necessary funds and support. I must admit, I had hoped our journey would have been over by now, with his help, but it was not meant to be. Things being as they are, we cannot rely on anyone else for support – even my own guards would be more likely to arrest me than help me.”

“Surely if we explain the situation to them...”

“No lad, if we cannot even convince someone as simple-minded as Yangus of the truth, then we have no hope of convincing anyone.”

“I guess...”

“Oi!”

“No matter. Even if we are on our own, we will find a way if the Goddess wills it. Have you heard anything of Dhoulmagus?”

“Sorry Sire, I haven’t had a chance to ask – I was just trying to find a way to let you know-”

“I understand – asking after a jester’s whereabouts when a village is in mourning is rather... challenging. Nevertheless, we need to ask around if we are to pick up Dhoulmagus’ trail again. Perhaps if you were to ask after the checkpoint guards instead? If they are in pursuit of Dhoulmagus, then if we find them we are likely to find Dhoulmagus not long after.”

“Good idea Sire, I’ll do that.”

“You don’t s’pose that Dhoulmagus ‘ad summink to do wiv the murder ‘ere as well, do ya?” Yangus said thoughtfully. “It’s just that the last fella ‘e murdered was the most important bloke in Farebury, and this Alistair guy was the village champ. Mebbe Dhoulmagus was the one who broke into the Tower and jumped Alistair, just like ‘e jumped Rylus.”

“Guildmaster Rylus was Dhoulmagus’ former master, and a grave threat to any future plans he might have – Dhoulmagus had every reason to kill him. I do not think he would travel across the whole continent to murder a mere village champion, no matter how important he might be to the local people” Trode dismissed.

“But ‘e ain’t just a champion – ‘e’s an ‘elm.”

“What? In this remote village? Where are we exactly?”

“Alexandria, Sire.”

“Alexandria? Ah, the Albert family, of course. And it was the heir to the family Alistair who was murdered recently?”

“Yes Sire, he was found yesterday.”

“That family has had more than its fair share of tragedy these last few years. They accrued their wealth through their merchant fleet before they Ascended to Helms, and they still run the business even now. However, with sea voyages growing ever more dangerous so many of the family have been lost... Why, I believe there is only one branch of the family left, and the father died several years ago. So, now his son has died too. I think that just leaves his wife and daughter left... Such a pity.”

“It must be difficult for them” he agreed.

“Still, such matters are best left to the Goddess. What we need to focus on is the hunt for Dhoulmagus so that we may free the kingdom from the curse placed upon it. The Albert family’s situation, while deeply distressing, is nothing we can help with and I am certain it has nothing to do with our quest. Dhoulmagus would not travel across the continent just to murder someone, he must have come this way for a reason. And I mean to find out what that reason is! Let us be off!”

“Actually Sire, Yangus’ kilt won’t be ready until tomorrow. And I thought it might be best if we stayed in the village overnight, just to be on the safe side.”

“Very well, I suppose one more day will not hurt” the King sighed. “At the very least I can hang up our wet things and let them dry out after that dreadful downpour yesterday. Just be sure to enquire as to whether Dhoulmagus passed this way from the villagers.”

“Yes Sire. Please be careful tonight, and we’ll rejoin you as soon as we can tomorrow.”

“Just be careful ‘bout ‘ow you ask things, eh guv?” Yangus whispered to him. “I mean, the villagers round ‘ere are all on edge, an askin’ the wrong sort of questions might rub them up the wrong way, you know what I mean?”

“I know. I don’t want another mob like the one at Farebury. If we get in trouble, we won’t have anyone around to bail us out this time.”

“Exactly.”

\-----

“Good morning!”

The guard jumped, clutching his halberd nervously as if it might ward off danger. “Oh, uh, hello? I mean, uh, good morning! No, wait! I mean: My humblest apologies, traveller, but we are unable to offer any Hospitality this day. We beg your forgiveness and understanding.”

“There is nothing to forgive – may the Goddess watch over your household, and be with you in your time of distress.”

“Oh, you already know?”

“...Even if I didn’t, you’re wearing black mourning clothes.”

“Oh, right! Wait, I mean: May the Goddess watch over you on your journey, and keep your path smooth and easy.”

“...New job?”

“That obvious?” the guard laughed awkwardly.

“Well, your equipment looks very new.” Not to mention he seemed to jump like a frightened rabbit every time anyone made a noise.

“Sorry, I’m not usually this bad. It’s just that I was a simple hunter a couple of days ago, and now I’m the household guard for the Albert family! They’ve never needed one before, so I’m still trying to understand what I’m supposed to do.”

“It can’t be easy, trying to step into Lord Alistair’s shoes” he sympathised, though it felt weird comforting someone a couple of years older than him. He hoped he hadn’t been this jumpy when he first joined the Royal Guard. Well, no more than the others anyway.

“Oh, no-one could step into Lord Alistair’s shoes” the guard sighed. “He was the greatest, a real hero. All I can do is try and keep his family safe now that he’s gone. I’ll be fine with the fighting part – I’m good with bow and my fists if need be, though I’m not sure about this thing” he said, looking at his halberd distrustfully. “It’s just the etiquette and protocol I’m nervous about.”

“From what I’ve heard the Albert family won’t throw you out because of a few slips, and most Helms consider it a matter of honour not to draw attention to any of their household’s mistakes – they’ll let you know discreetly. So long as you remember the Rites you should be fine.”

“You seem to know a lot about it.”

Now it was his turn to laugh awkwardly. “Yes, well, I used to be in service until the household experienced some ‘unfortunate circumstances’. I’m freelancing now. My companion and I were passing by when we heard the situation, and we thought we would offer our condolences.”

“I’m sorry, but I’m afraid the household’s in mourning; I can’t let you in.”

“No, that’s okay.” He could tell the guard meant it, and it wasn’t like he really needed to pay his respects – the offer alone was enough. “I expected as much. Pass on our condolences whenever you feel it’s appropriate, and good luck with the new job.”

“You could go to the Viewing” the guard offered. “Lord Alistair will be on display at the Church until his funeral barge is built, and if you’re still around you’d be welcome to come to the Sending.”

“We can’t stay unfortunately, but thank you for the offer. We’ve been to the Viewing, so once we’ve stopped by the shop we’ll be on our way. Thank you for your help.”

“No, I’m sorry I couldn’t do-”

“Excuse me.” He looked up to see a small blond maid gracefully coming down the stairs towards them. Although she seemed young, in her twenties still, the fine quality of her black mourning dress and her confident manner easily marked her as Head of the household servants. The guard next to him certainly stiffened to attention, and he quietly kicked Yangus to warn him to be careful. And quiet. “Please forgive my interruption. My Lady would like to see you now.”

Ah. He and Yangus looked at each other. They hadn’t actually expected they would be able to see anyone with the household in mourning. And now that they could, they didn’t know what they were going to say. He glanced at the guard, who looked at him as if to say ‘Well, I didn’t expect it either, but hey isn’t it lucky that you’re going to meet her, you’re sure to get a job now and won’t that be great, I hope you don’t replace me because I’ve no idea what I’m doing’. Or something like that. Maybe he was reading too much into it.

Well, he couldn’t exactly refuse – he’d think of something. “We would be honoured.”

“Please, come this way.” The maid led them up the large ornate staircase, admiring the many carvings on the stairs and balcony. The carvings weren’t showy or flashy, just subtle intricate little patterns that decorated the skirting boards and the railings and so on. The whole house was covered with them both outside and in, as if the entire building were one giant piece of art. Whoever the artist was, they were very good.

They were ushered into a drawing room with some ornate wooden chairs with rich red cushions around a simple yet elegant round table, with a few other chairs and coffee tables gathered near the windows. At the moment though, like the rest of the house, the windows were covered by thick black curtains that blotted out all light, a very formal and public display of mourning. Instead the room was lit by a few magic lanterns shuttered to cast a dim light – another great expense; it was clear that this was a wealthy household.

Sitting at the table in the middle of the room must be the Lady of the house, Lady Rosalind Albert, proud owner of the Albert Merchant Fleet. She was every inch a Helm, stiff and upright in her chair, every careful movement proudly declaring her superior breeding and wealth. She was a beauty too, if a cold one, with a slim figure and sharp severe features flattered by the black lace dress she wore. Beneath her thin black veil he could see she wore no make-up on her cool expressionless face, which only served to emphasise her natural beauty, only a slight greying at the edges of her dark red hair any indication of her age.

She studied them with the same amount of interest as she would if a dog walked in, but he was used to that from his work at the castle – at least she was merely disinterested rather than scornful of or offended by his presence. He bowed low as they went through the Rites, nudging Yangus to do the same, desperately trying to think of what to say as he sipped the small cup of tea they were provided. Well, he had come to make it look like they were jobless wanderers, so he might as well act like one.

“Good day, Lady Albert. My companion and I were passing through when we heard of your loss, and we wished to offer our condolences; we will remember you in our prayers.”

“Thank you; we are deeply grieved by our loss” the lady replied without emotion. “My son Alistair was my heir and Champion of the village, the one who protected us from bandits and monsters. Without him our path is uncertain.”

“We will pray that the Goddess will show the way” he answered, already uncertain where this conversation was heading.

“Am I to understand you are travellers? Which way do you travel?”

“We follow the coast west, Lady.”

“Good. I would inform those in my service at Port Prospect and my liege at the capital of the situation here, but my messenger falcons have not yet returned from my last set of correspondence. I would ask you to take this letter to Port Prospect in their stead.”

Not Trodain! If she sent someone there... “...If you want to request support from Trodain, I believe some soldiers are in the area. If I see them would you like me to ask them to come to you here while they wait for further instructions?”

“You are referring to the guards from the Noor Checkpoint, to the Northwest? I am aware they are in the area, but regrettably they did not pass us here, off the main road as we are.” Lady Albert paused for a moment, quickly thinking things over. “If they are need of a place to stay while they await further instruction, I would be happy to host them here.”

“You are most generous – I will be certain to let them know of your kind offer” he replied, bowing.

“I have the two letters I need delivered here” she went on, ignoring his flattery. “If you are happy to deliver them, I would be prepared to compensate you for the trouble. I believe five hundred gold coins should be more than sufficient.”

Five hundred!? Well, if she meant them to go to Trodain that was a reasonable enough price... But, five hundred gold coins! “We would be honoured to do this for you, Lady” he replied, bowing once more. Still, everything seemed too easy. “Er... Lady, I don’t want to be discourteous...”

“Go on” the Lady gestured.

“...but why are you trusting us with this? I mean, we’re strangers without any kind of reference; why aren’t you worried we’ll just take the coin and throw the letters away?”

The Lady actually smiled at him! “That you felt you had to ask is evidence enough that my faith is not misplaced. That you came with no expectation of being able to speak with me and prepared to leave without even leaving your name or promising to return is another good indication. And if you refer to your arriving so shortly after the tragedy as reason to suspect you, you are here too early to have heard about the situation and come to take advantage of it, and if you were in some way related to my son’s untimely departure I doubt you would have chosen your companion to accompany you. Furthermore, your lack of preparation and general nervousness are fair indicators that you are not bandits, and while you are too down-at-heel to be in disguise you are certainly not so scruffy that you look like you have been sleeping in the rough. I could go on?”

“Uh... no, that’s fine.” He honestly wasn’t sure what to make of all that.

“...Of course, if you would prefer not to take the job...”

“No, no! We’ll take it! It would be our honour. Who did you want us to deliver your messages to, in particular?”

“The letter for Port Prospect should go to the Navigator there; he manages the Albert Merchant Fleet and is a Friend to our family. He will be able to make all the necessary arrangements for my son’s funeral barge on our behalf. If he happens to be out on one of his voyages just give it to his Charter, and she will give it to him on his return. The second letter is to be delivered to the King. You need not give it to him personally as I doubt he would give you an audience for such a simple matter – just go to the castle and give it to one of his Heralds, and they will ensure it is delivered with all due haste. I trust you can handle that.”

If only she knew... “We will deliver these letters without fail.” And what the King would do about it, he had no idea.

“We are most grateful for your service. Here is the payment we agreed upon” she added, gesturing to the bag of coins her maid brought over to him on a tray. He blinked at the size of them, but soon took the heavy bags off the maid and gave half to Yangus for safe-keeping. “And here, a token of my gratitude.” He was presented with a small medal, and quickly added it to his pouch – with all the tokens they’d earned from the various favours they’d done these past few weeks he was beginning to build up quite a collection. “I have great faith that you will be able to deliver my letters promptly. I trust that we will meet again soon.”

“My Lady?” interrupted a second maid also dressed in black livery, slipping in quietly.

“Yes?”

“There is a young gentleman at the door who wishes to see you. A Master Lorenzo? He said you would know who he is.”

Lady Rosalind turned to the pretty maid, not so much shocked as mildly surprised. “Lorenzo? Are you certain?”

“Yes, my Lady.”

“Lorenzo is the name of my daughter’s fiancé, but I was not expecting his arrival. At the very least I would have expected him to send word he intended to visit.” Lady Rosalind frowned. “This really is most inconvenient, but considering he has journeyed here from Argonia we cannot turn him away. However he is not to approach my daughter; she was greatly affected by her brother’s death, and would not appreciate being disturbed.”

“Of course, my Lady. I will be sure to keep him away from Mistress Jessica’s room.”

“Very well, I will not be much longer. Anna, greet Lorenzo and bring him up. Beatrice, please guide these two guests out when we have finished the Rites.”

“Yes, my Lady” the two maids replied, curtseying.

“I am afraid our audience must come to an end” Lady Rosalind told him. “Safe journey, Honoured Guest. May the Goddess watch over you on your journey, and keep your path smooth and easy.”

“Many thanks for your most gracious Hospitality, Good Host” he replied, bowing. “May the Lady watch over your household as your story unfolds, and comfort you in your time of distress. Know that the Goddess knows every story, and She will bring wrongdoers to justice, while those who earnestly follow the path of harmony will be welcome at Her side.”

“Thank you for your kind words. If you ever pass this way in the future, you would be most welcome to visit.”

“Then let us pray that we may we meet again in better times, Solib.”

“Solib.”

The Rites concluded, the maid led the way out of the room, starting towards the grand staircase they had come up earlier. “Uh, Beatrice? If it helps, you can lead us down the backstairs; we **are** running an errand for your Lady after all, and if it would make things easier with your other guest...”

The brunette glanced at him, then at the sound of her Head and this Lorenzo at the bottom of the stairs. She hesitated for a brief moment, then nodded and quickly changed direction, ducking behind a tapestry to lead them through a hidden passage. The passage was small and narrow, Yangus only just able to squeeze his bulk through, and dimly lit with smoky lamps rather than the magical lanterns in the Helms’ quarters.

“All Helms have servants’ passages like this one, so servants can do their job without the Helms seeing them” he explained to Yangus. “They probably have their quarters and kitchen here too.”

“I know, I seen ‘em be-” Yangus started, but he stopped as they heard a crash from the adjacent room and some not-so-stifled curses. The maid instinctively went to help, and he followed just as instinctively – a lifetime in service was hard to overcome.

Somehow he’d known even before the maid opened the door that it led to the kitchen, but once inside it was obvious; the room was filled with the lovely smell of cooking. It seemed that the cook was getting ready to serve brunch and the crash had been one of his delicately arranged plates smashing on the floor, and his assistant the one to blame. The cook was now snarling at his assistant as he cleared up the mess, waving his ladle emphatically. It was such a familiar scene he was immediately hit by a sudden loneliness and longing for home, so strong he almost staggered.

“You alright guv?” He waved Yangus away, blinking away the tears that had suddenly formed and pulling himself back together. This wasn’t the time to get all teary-eyed.

“Did you say that was Mistress Jessica’s?” Beatrice gasped, turning pale. “You know what her temper’s like! We don’t want to upset her, now of all times!”

“I’m a chef, not a miracle worker! I need time to prepare the food before I can serve it! I’ve got the meat to cook and the-”

“I know that! But you’re not the one who has to face the fireworks when she-” The assistant coughed, nodding in their direction, and the maid and the cook both whirled round with a smile hastily stuck on their face. “I’m sorry you saw that sirs, please follow me and-”

“I’ve been in service – I can help here” he cut in. “You need to get the tea ready for the Rites, right?” The maid’s smile flickered – she must’ve forgotten. “Look, Lady Rosalind’s guest means that she’ll probably eat with him, right? And that means you’ll need to prepare another dish anyway. Just give the plate you’ve got to Lady Jessica, and you can prepare and serve Lady Rosalind’s and Lord Lorenzo’s food together.”

Beatrice blinked as she took that in, then her face lit up with a brilliant smile. “That’s perfect! You’re a genius!”

“I’ve just had a lot of practice with this sort of thing.” He’d always been the one running around to get the food ready for Cookie to work her magic on it.

A bell rang as Lady Rosalind summoned the tea, and he quickly snatched up the plate as Beatrice and the cook rushed to get things ready. “I’ll get this out of the way while you sort things here, shall I?”

“If you could, that would be fantastic” Beatrice called over her shoulder, hurrying through the ceremonial steps of preparing the tea as quickly as she could. “Her room’s towards the back: head up the stairs and turn right, take the first left and it’s the second door on the right. Bangers and Mash are guarding it, you can’t miss it. And please ask Catherine to come back down, will you? She’s on the third floor in the attic.”

“I understand, we’ll go right away.”

He backed out of the kitchen with the tray and quickly set up the stairs, Yangus following behind him. “’ow come we’re doin’ all this then, eh? I know you like to ‘elp an’ all, but wanderin’ round an ‘ouse like this wivout an escort is the sort o’ thing we were tryin’ to avoid, right? ‘cos it’s the sort o’ thin’ me an’ me mates would’ve tried to case a joint ‘fore-”

“Ssh! Don’t say that here! Someone might misunderstand! And yes, I thought we’d just be turned away at the door and that’d be that, but now we’re here we can’t just turn a blind eye – they need us! If Lady Rosalind wasn’t able to offer tea to her daughter’s fiancé, it’d be hugely embarrassing! And Lorenzo’s probably a Helm as well, and that would make it a scandal! We can’t just ignore that.”

“I think we can, but I get your point guv.”

“Don’t call me-”

“Halt! Who goes there!?”

What? Oh, right, they did say Bangers and Mash were guarding Lady Jessica’s room. He supposed this must be it.

“Oh, it’s you” Bangers muttered, he and Mash sheathing their wooden swords. “Listen, I’m sorry ‘bout before; we shouldn’t have attacked you like that. We thought you were bandits, but-”

“Like I said, it’s forgotten.” But the apology meant a lot more than the Rites had yesterday. “Here, I’ve brought Lady Jessica her brunch.”

“Oh, right, thanks. I don’t know why they bother though – she hasn’t had anything since yesterday.”

“No, it’s not touched” Mash added as Bangers knocked on the door and called to Lady Jessica that her brunch was ready. “She won’t even answer the door.”

“Nope. We know, because we’ve been asked to guard her room” Bangers added proudly, placing the tray on the floor. “And she’s not said a word since we’ve been here, take it from us.”

“That’s right.”

“Well, I’m sure she’ll feel hungry soon enough, and it’s here if she wants it, that’s the main thing” he replied. “Anyway, we’ll let you get on – we need to find Catherine and ask her to come downstairs.”

“Alright, be on your way!”

He glanced at Yangus and rolled his eyes, but he wasn’t going to spoil their fun, so he made his way back to the stairs and up to the third floor, Yangus following behind him as always. The third floor was all narrow and dark, so must be for the servants. He heard a noise, so he and Yangus headed towards it, and sure enough there was the maid they were looking for, scrabbling about on the floor muttering to herself.

“Um, excuse me miss?”

“ **Eek!** ” The maid gave a little shriek, jumping to her feet and whirling round to face them. “Don’t creep up on me like that! You scared me out of my wits! What are you doing here anyway? These are the servants’ quarters!”

“We came ‘ere for you. You’re needed back downstairs, like” Yangus answered while he recovered from her reaction. “Wot you rollin’ ‘round on the floor talkin’ to yerself for?”

“I wasn’t rolling around!” the maid Catherine said indignantly, tucking some unruly curly red hair back behind her ears. “I’m looking for rats; Lady Rosalind complained she heard scratching last night, and I was sent to catch them. Oh, why me? I hate rats! I’m terrified of them! I come over all shivery and stuff. The others all know that, why did I have to choose the short straw? Ooh...”

She was a little annoying, but then she was still young, a couple of years younger than him, and probably only recently hired – she certainly hadn’t gotten used to acting like a servant, that’s for sure. In fact that was probably why she was given all the bad jobs, and would continue to get them until she learned better and didn’t embarrass the household in front of guests. Come to think of it, all the staff but the cook seemed very young for their positions, and the staff was much smaller than he-

“Hey, was that a rat?”

“ **Eek!** Where!?” Catherine shrieked, jumping behind Yangus as she spotted the rat gnawing on a barrel at the far end of the room. She gave another shriek that made him wince, and of course the rat quickly scurried behind the barrels to get away from the noise. “What do I do now?”

“Leave it to us.”

“Do we ‘ave to?” Yangus sighed. “Can’t we just get goin’, or we’re gonna end up as part o’ the staff an’ granddad’ll ‘ave a right fit.”

“Last job, honest. I mean, we might as well kill it now that we’ve found it. Otherwise they’ll never get rid of it.”

“If you say so...”

They shifted the barrels out of the way, a few of them with holes in that the rat had made, but when they moved the last of them they found a mouse hole in the wall. “Well, that’s that then. Nothing we can-”

“Oh no!” Catherine wailed. “That hole leads into Lady Jessica’s room. If she finds a rat in there I’ll be fired for sure, and then where will I be!?”

“Away from us” Yangus muttered, and he had to stifle a laugh. Still, maybe it was for the best – Catherine didn’t really seem cut out to be a maid.

But then he saw her tear-stained cheeks, and he remembered how nervous he’d been when he’d first started. The other servants had looked out for him then, especially Zoe, and while he wasn’t part of the staff here he couldn’t really leave her like this. He sighed. “There is one thing we can try. Come on Munchie.”

“Eek! Is that a rat!?” Catherine yelled, jumping away from him.

“A rat!? Munchie is **clearly** a harvest mouse!” He pulled Munchie out of his pocket and held him out to show to her, but she just ran away with a scream. He rolled his eyes and petted Munchie. “There, there Munchie, don’t let the mean maid hurt you.” Munchie gave a dismissive shake of his head. “Thatta boy. Now, I need your help. We’ve got a rat running around in a Lady’s room, and we can’t allow that – go in there and chase it out for me, will you?” Munchie nodded. “That’s great! Just be sure you keep out of sight, or you might scare the Lady. Okay?” Munchie nodded again, then jumped off his hand and scurried through the hole.

“It beats me ‘ow you’re able to carry ‘im around everywhere in yer pocket wivout any problems guv” Yangus commented. “I mean, in town’s one thing, and even in ‘ere yer lucky ‘e don’t go jumpin’ out and start runnin’ around all over the place, but ‘ow ‘e’s able to stay safe when we’re fightin’...”

“He’s perfectly safe in my pocket. I’ve never had any problems before, and besides, where else could I keep him?”

“Well, you got me there guv. Still, wot makes you think ‘e can flush that rat out? I mean, he’s only a little fella an’ that rat was an awful big’un...”

“Munchie’s a very clever mouse. Once when I got lost in the woods he jumped out of my pocket and ran off. I chased after him, and twenty minutes later, I was back at Trodain. He can handle some fat old rat.”

“If you say so guv.”

“I do say so. And I thought I said not to call me guv!”

Sometime later, Munchie came back out of the hole looking triumphant. But that wasn’t all – he was dragging a letter with his teeth.

“What’s that you got there boy?” he asked, scooping him up in his hands and taking the letter from him. “Good boy, good boy” he murmured, popping Munchie back into his pocket. He then broke a chunk of cheese off and fed it to Munchie with one hand while the other thumbed open the seal on the letter.

‘Dear Bangers and Mash,

I am sorry I had to deceive you, but I must do this. If you are reading this then you will already know that I am not in my room. Mother says we must wait for warriors from Port Prospect to come and to petition Trodain for aid, but by the time they arrive Alistair’s murderer will be long gone.

I will not sit here idly while my brother’s murderers escape; I have gone to bring these fiends to justice. I will lie in wait for them at the Tower of Alexandria until they return for what they came for, and I will make them pay for what they have done.

I am so sorry that I deceived you and I hope to make it up to you someday. Until my return, farewell.

May the Goddess watch over you and protect you as your story unfolds,

Jessica

“Oh no.”

“What’s up guv?”

“Don’t call me that, and I think we’ve got a problem.”

“What’s that you’ve got there?” He nearly jumped; Catherine had finally plucked up the courage to rejoin them, and as she’d been moving so warily he hadn’t heard her.

“Nothing important” he answered dismissively, quickly stuffing the letter into his pocket – he needed time to think, and he didn’t want this girl shrieking and weeping in his ear. Somehow he just knew if she found out what had happened to Jessica the whole house would hear of it in seconds. And with Jessica’s fiancé here, any breath of scandal could be terrible. He needed a distraction... “Are you sure that you don’t want to hold Munchie?”

“Eek, no! Keep him away from me, keep him away! Ew!” she squealed, backing away. Perfect.

“Ah well, never mind. Your loss” he replied carelessly. “Wait, didn’t they need you downstairs?”

“Ohmygosh, I completely forgot!” Catherine gasped, running downstairs.

“Yangus, read this.”

“Eh? You’re not serious!” Yangus exclaimed once he’d finished reading. “You mean this Jess bird ‘as gone into a tower filled wiv monsters to capture ‘er brother’s murderer? She’ll be slaughtered! She won’t last a minute! And no-one ‘ere knows yet? Cor blimey, wot a mess.”

“Exactly. If we don’t do something she could get into some serious trouble; it would crush the village if both Lady Jessica **and** Lord Albert were killed.”

“But wot can we do? We can’t get mixed up in all this, we got our own murderer to sort out!”

“I know, but we can at least help them discover that she’s gone before we leave, can’t we?”

“I s’pose, but who’d believe us, and won’t ask awkward questions like, ‘ow d’you know?’”

“I have some people in mind...”

“Oh, it’s you two again” Bangers said, sheathing his sword. “What do you want? You haven’t brought dessert, have you?”

“No, not this time. Actually, we’ve got something important to tell you, but it’s a bit awkward.”

“What do you mean?” asked Bangers suspiciously, staring at them with his hand on his little wooden sword, apparently trying to look threatening. If he’d been an adult or even an adolescent it might have worked, but as he was only a kid it just looked cute.

“Well, you see...” This was going to be difficult. “We have, ah, reason to believe that Lady Jessica is, uh, well... not exactly... um, not exactly in her room.”

“What do you mean?” Mash asked.

“Of course she’s in her room” Bangers said sternly. “We saw her go in and she hasn’t come out. Where else would she be?”

“Well, we think that she may have gone to try and find Lord Alistair’s killer.”

“WHAT?! That’s... a lot more like Jess than weeping in her room” Bangers admitted. “But it’s impossible! And how do you know anyway? Why should we trust you? You could be tricking us.”

“Why? Wot we’d do that for?” Yangus pointed out.

“I don’t know... You bandit types can be tricky.”

“Look, we found this. Take it.” He handed the letter over to Bangers, who slowly reached out and then snatched it from him. Bangers unfolded it carefully and read it, glancing at them suspiciously. Gradually he stopped paying attention to them though, his eyes widening as he saw what Lady Jessica had written.

“This is definitely her handwriting. And it sounds like her too. But it can’t be! How come you have this anyway? Did you break into her room? Are you thieves trying to take advantage of the household while it’s in the morning?”

“In mourning” he corrected. “And no, we aren’t. We just found it a few minutes ago. We got roped into rat-catching and, to cut a long story short, while we were searching for a rat, we found this. If you don’t believe us you can always check Lady Jessica’s room. I think you’ll find that she’s not there, and if she is you can ask her about the note. It won’t hurt to check.”

“Alright” Bangers agreed sullenly. “But don’t you move. Mash, keep an eye on them”

“Aye, aye Bangers” Mash answered, before turning to face Jay and waving his soup ladle at them. “Don’t run off you two or I’ll biff you with this.”

That was the hard part taken care of – he’d successfully distracted Bangers with the option of checking himself, and he’d soon forget how they’d come by the note. Which was just as well as he didn’t think anyone would believe Munchie had brought it to him, and unlike Bangers they wouldn’t just leave it at accusations.

“She’s not here!” Bangers cried, running back out. Through the open door he could see the window wasn’t fully closed, so it wasn’t hard to guess where she’d gone. “This is a disaster! The tower is full of monsters! And if those murderers killed Alistair then what chance does she have? She could be in danger!” He whirled on the two of them. “You! This is partly your fault!”

“What?! Why?”

“Jessica is in danger; we must help her!” Bangers went on, ignoring him. “Mash, make sure no-one realises that Jessica’s gone, specially her mum. You guys follow me to the tower and bring Jessica back. If we don’t get her back before her mum find’s out that she’s gone there’ll be hell to pay! There’s no time to lose! Jessica’s already been gone a whole day. Come on!”

“Wait, wait, waitwaitwaitwait!”

“What!?” Bangers yelled, whirling round.

“If we run out the front door and charge out of the village, don’t you think someone will notice something’s wrong?”

“...I’ll meet you by the trees where we met before. Get everything you need, and don’t dawdle!” And with that he ran off.

He and Yangus looked at each other.

“Well, wot now?”

“I guess we go after him. We can’t let a little kid go through the woods to a monster-infested tower to rescue this Lady Jessica on his own. We have to help!”

“I guess…” Yangus sighed as they quietly left the Albert manor. “’ow do you get us into these messes guv?”

“You don’t have to come.”

“Yeah I do. I owe you my life guv, and I won’t forget it. Not just for the bridge, but fer givin’ me a second chance. I’ll stick wiv ya through thick ‘n’ thin. It’s just we always seem to end up doin’ all this stuff apart from wot we’re s’posed to. I dunno wot the ol’ codger’s gonna say when ‘e ‘ears ‘bout this.”

“I’m sure he’ll understand. And Yangus?”

“Yes guv?”

“Don’t call me guv.”

“Sure thing guv.”

He sighed, but there wasn’t time to get into that now, so they simply made their way out of the village as casually but as quickly as they could. Fortunately it didn’t take them too long, and as soon as they were in amongst the trees he sent Yangus looking for Bangers while he set out for the wagon. It wasn’t long before he found where the King had camped, and even better the King was ready and waiting for him.

“What’s happening? Are you being chased?”

“No, no. Nothing like that” he panted, quickly harnessing the Princess to the wagon.

“Then why have you burst in so suddenly? And where is Yangus?”

“Uh... Long story short, we found out the daughter of the Albert family, Lady Jessica, has gone to avenge her brother’s murder on her own, and we’re the only ones who know. She’s waiting in the Tower of Alexandria, which is filled with monsters, and we need to bring her back. Oh, and we have a guide, a young boy who’ll be here shortly.”

“...What? This Jessica has gone to avenge her brother?”

“Yes – he was found in the Tower of Alexandria, so that’s where she’ll be.”

“And the Tower of Alexandria is outside the village?”

“Yes, further south of here, where the old village was before they abandoned it.”

“And so now it is filled with monsters...” The King sighed. “I suppose we have no choice but to intervene – we cannot stand idly by and watch the Albert family line end like this. However I am concerned by the number of detours we seem to be taking...”

“Yes Sire, I know. Ah! Speaking of detours...” He quickly pulled the envelope from his jacket. “We spoke with Lady Albert, and she asked us to deliver two letters for her. This one’s for you.”

“ **Me!?** ”

“I was supposed to deliver it to Trodain.”

“...Ah, of course. For a moment I thought...” King Trode broke the seal and quickly read the letter. “As I expected, she is requesting that I provide protection and support for her household. Ordinarily I would dispatch one of my Charters or some such to help govern the estate, and in this case provide funds to hire warriors to protect the town until she could make her own suitable arrangements. It is as I feared, the Albert family must be struggling following their recent losses. However, given my current circumstances there is little I can do. Except, of course, return her daughter to her.”

“Yes Sire. I also have another letter to deliver to the Navigator of Port Prospect...”

“Ah, good, I need not fear that she will be waiting for support that will never come then.”

“Guv!”

“Don’t call me that!” he yelled back in Yangus’ direction, before turning back to King Trode. “It appears our guide is here Sire.”

“So I gather. Who are they?”

“A child, Sire, armed with a wooden sword and a stubborn will. He engaged the two of us when we first entered the village.”

“Did he now? Well, the lad’s certainly not short of spirit. Why him?”

“He and his friend were chosen by Lady Jessica to guard her room, so that no-one would realise she was missing. They are the only two apart from us who know where Lady Jessica is, and would like to keep it that way so that we can return her without anyone noticing – her fiancé is here.”

“Ah, I see; another additional complication. Well, I shall leave things in your hands.”

“Thank you Sire.”

“There you are!” Bangers exclaimed, bursting through the bushes. “Come on, we haven’t got time to waste! Jessica’s already been gone a day, and Mash can’t keep her mum from finding out forever! We’ve got to go now!”

“I know, I know, I was just preparing the wagon. If Lady Jessica is injured when we find her, we can take her back in it. This is our driver, by the way. He’s got a skin condition, but don’t worry, it isn’t contagious. People get funny when he comes near them though, so he tends to keep himself to himself. And this is our horse, Princess.”

Medea whickered a greeting, but Bangers ignored her. “I don’t care about all that! Just follow me to the Tower! We’ve got to get there before it’s too late!”

“Lead the way, we’re right behind you!”

\-----

“Bangers! Duck!” he yelled, tossing the boomerang over his head to knock the Drackmage to the floor. Bangers quickly finished it off with his wooden sword while he returned to the Fencing Fox, dodging its strike as he switched to his sword and cut it down. Yangus battered the last Funghoul with his mallet, and the surviving monsters fled into the trees.

“Just beyond these trees now” Bangers told them, leading them out of the forest to a large clearing. And there, suddenly, was the Tower of Alexandria. It was the highest tower he’d ever seen, probably six floors depending how big the rooms were, with a wall the height of three men surrounding it. Well, he said tower, there were actually two towers inside the walled courtyard, but the second tower was half the size of the main tower and its primary purpose seemed to be to form a stylised bridge over the courtyard to the upper floors of the main tower.

He wondered why it had been built. It could work as a lighthouse, but the tower was very old, and the cliffs wouldn’t have been as close as they were now. And a lighthouse wouldn’t be covered with such beautiful stone carvings like the ones at the Albert Manor. It must have looked beautiful when it was first built, but the carvings had been eroded over time, and if there was any white plaster it had long been washed away, leaving behind a dark imposing tower that stood alone, towering over the coastline from its hill. How long before the cliffs reached the tower? Would it even be standing by then?

“This is the Tower of Alexandria” Bangers announced proudly, leading them to the gates. “The whole village used to be built around it, but some time back we had to move because the cliffs were getting too close and sea monsters started raiding us. We still visit the shrine at the top, but every year we have to clear out all the monsters that have made their homes here and shift any rubble. We usually patch it up every five years and Alistair was starting to organise things, saying it was starting to become unsafe, but now... This is where he was murdered the other day. Jessica should be waiting for the murderers to return inside.”

“We’d best get in there and find her then, if we’re going to make it back before it gets dark” he replied, smiling encouragingly at Bangers.

“You’ll need to get into the tower first” Bangers grinned back, “and you can’t do that without me. This is a special door that only Alexandrians know how to open. Unless, that is, you want to try first?”

“No it’s fine; you go ahead. I’ll believe you. This place would have been ripped apart by now if there wasn’t some secret.”

“Well guv” Yangus interrupted, “I’m pretty good wiv doors. Gimme some time wiv it an’ I’m sure I can spring it for ya.”

“You can try; you won’t open it~” Bangers boasted.

“Can’t ‘urt to try.”

“Don’t let us stop you” he shrugged, stepping aside. “But don’t take long. We haven’t much time.”

Yangus walked up to the door into the tower and studied it intently. Not finding anything, after a moment he dug his feet in, spat on his palms for extra grip, put his shoulder against it and pushed. And pushed. And pushed. Soon he was struggling flat out as his feet fought to keep their purchase and his hands slid along the wood. In the end though, he collapsed onto the ground breathing heavily and finally admitted defeat.

“You sure you don’t want to try?” Bangers asked him.

“Pretty sure, thank you. If Yangus couldn’t open it, I certainly can’t.”

“Alright then, I’ll show you. But if I tell you, you have to swear to keep this a secret. No one else must know how to open this door; it’s precious to us, and we don’t want bandits looting the place.”

“As the Goddess is our witness, we vow not show anyone else how to open the door” Jay vowed, the others adding their own oaths to his.

“Well, it’s quite simple once you know how” Bangers told them. Standing at the centre of the door, he bent down low and heaved, pulling on the low wooden bar for purchase. Instantly the door rose like a portcullis, apparently without effort judging by Bangers’ broad grin. “See, nothing to it!”

“Impressive” the King murmured.

“Cor blimey” Yangus whispered, eloquent as ever.

“Wow” he gasped, not much more eloquent himself. “I’d never have thought of that.”

“Brilliant, isn’t it? The other doors are the same, so don’t forget! I’d better get back to the village before someone notices I’m missing. I’ll help buy you some time to find Jessica, but hurry – I don’t know how long we can keep this up, especially with that soppy fiancé of hers hanging about.”

“You sure you’ll be able to get back okay without us?”

“Don’t worry about me, I can outrun those monsters easy – you just worry about rescuing Jessica.”

He’d made a few boasts like that himself in the past, and he hadn’t always got off lightly. Still, it was better than leaving him out here with the King, so he nodded. “Alright, we’ll take care of things here. See you at the village.”

“Sure thing!” Bangers started to go, but before he left, he turned around and said “You know, you guys are alright.” And then he ran off.

“Finally,” the King sighed as they quickly patched their wounds and he pulled some more medicinal herbs from the wagon, just in case. “I applaud the lad’s spirit, but trying to join you in battle was far too perilous.”

“At least he kept back most the time.”

“Yes, thank you for intervening. I was getting nowhere trying to reason with him.”

“Yes, well, I was rather like him at that age” he admitted. “Telling him he’s too young just makes him all the more determined to prove you wrong – telling him a wooden sword isn’t going to be much use is just facing facts and doesn’t challenge his courage or ‘manliness’.

“Yes, of course. I suppose I have little experience with children. My own Medea was never so rebellious.” The Princess snorted. “Medea and I will wait out here, as usual. Be as quick as you can, and we shall be on our way as soon as Lady Jessica is returned home.”

“Yes Sire. Don’t worry, we shouldn’t be long.”

“Well guv, ‘ere we go then, eh?” Yangus said as they went inside. “Life sure is interestin’, travellin’ wiv you. Who’d ‘ave thought I’d be accompanying a soldier ‘n’ a monster to rescue a damsel in distress, like?”

“A **trainee** soldier and a **King**. And as this particular lady sneaked out of her house, managed to get here safely and plans to ambush her brother’s murderers on her own, I doubt she’ll be your typical damsel in distress.”

“C’mon guv, I thought you were the romantic ‘round ‘ere – don’t go an’ spoil the moment; this is like summink outta a fairytale. I never thought I’d ever do summink like this, lemme enjoy it, eh?”

“Alright, just don’t call me guv.”

\-----

“Still... having... a great... time?”

“Cor... blimey” Yangus muttered. “Who... knew... it’d... be so... tough, eh? ‘ow... many monsters... are there?”

It had certainly been a hard slog. If climbing the tower hadn’t been enough, they’d found parts of the stairs blocked by rubble, and they’d been forced to find a way around. This meant it had taken them much longer, and of course bumped into more of the monsters that made the tower their home. And there were a surprisingly large number of monsters that lived here, and none of them let them pass without a fight, so they were now covered in blood, sweat, cuts, bruises and burns. He’d run out of magic two floors back, and they were nearly out of herbs. He should’ve brought the whole bag with him, not just a few – he’d underestimated how hard the tower would be. Still, no point going over it now, they were nearly at the top. “Come on, we’re wasting time. Let’s get on with it.”

They walked into the uppermost chamber and looked around; compared with all the other rooms this was certainly the most elaborate of them all. With smooth white alabaster pillars stretching to the roof in a neat path to the shrine, it was clear to see what the central attraction was. The floor was a deep turquoise blue and the roof was painted with the scene of a clear open sky with fluffy white clouds, creating the impression that they were standing outside. This was further emphasised by the series of wide double-door glass windows that let light shine through. Right now the sun was painting the sky with another fiery red sunset, pale orange light streaming out through the windows, creating a sort of halo effect around the statue of the Goddess in the centre of the room.

Drawn to the statue, as they moved closer he could see that it was made of a creamy white alabaster stone, elegantly carved into the shape of a beautiful young winged woman, arms open wide as if welcoming or embracing pilgrims. She wore a simple flowing robe that stretched down to feet clad in plain sandals. She had no jewellery aside from the incense burners placed on either side of her feet, and no decorations in the long hair that seemed to tumble down her back, so fine that one could almost count the individual hairs. But her most startling feature was not her delicately carved nose nor the loving smile that tugged at her lips, but the beautiful eyes made of jewels so clear and bright you could almost lose yourself in them. It was a particularly beautiful human-sized interpretation of the Goddess Statue on the Holy Isle of Neos, one of the three holiest sites in the world.

“So this is the famous statue of Alexandria” he whispered.

“ **You!** ” yelled a voice suddenly, making him jump. He spun round and there, standing in the middle of the room with a small flame dancing in her palms, was a striking young girl with flaming-red hair. She was dressed in a simple yet elegant white lace blouse and black dress, clearly of fine quality and tailored to flatter her slim figure, far more expensive than anything he could afford. She had a small delicate nose and large soft brown eyes, though they were now red from crying. He’d seen the same features only that morning when they’d met Lady Rosalind. There was no doubt, it could be none other than her daughter, the Lady Jessica.

“Cor blimey!” Yangus whispered, both of them taken aback by her sudden appearance.

“I knew you would come” Lady Jessica said quietly, her voice trembling. He was about to ask how she knew they were coming when he suddenly realised what she meant – she’d been waiting for Alistair’s murderers, and now two strangers had arrived...

“Wait, we’re not-” he began, eyes fixed on the growing fireball in her hands, but she cut him off.

“I know what you are doing!” she cried, her eyes reflecting the ball of fire she held in her hands. “You have come to steal the Statue of Alexandria!”

“Now ‘ang on!” Yangus yelled. “We ain’t-”

“ **And you murdered my brother!** I swore that I would not rest until I avenged him, your deaths a fitting epilogue to his story!”

**“You don’t understand!”**

“I understand that you took him by surprise and **killed him!”**

**“No!”**

**“And now you will suffer the same fate!”**

Lady Jessica launched the fireball at them. He shoved Yangus out of the way as the fireball shot past and smashed into the statue behind them, bursting into flames as the incense caught fire. Yangus rolled behind one of the pillars, but he was still in the open. He quickly jumped to his feet, and dove to the other side as another fireball crashed where he’d been seconds before. He scrambled out of the way and managed to make another leap to safety before a third fireball flew past him and burst through the windows, catching the back of his jacket.

“You’re fast! I guess thieves need to be quick on their toes. But you will not get away from me this time!” Jessica cried as she launched another set of fireballs at him. Yangus ran to help, but he was forced to hide behind his pillar as a flurry of fireballs came his way. He managed to make it to the pillar opposite Yangus before more fireballs came at him, and they both sheltered there as Jessica threw fireball after fireball in her rage.

“Wot do we do guv?” Yangus yelled, ducking as a fireball came perilously close to his head. “We can’t get anywhere near ‘er!”

“We don’t **want** to get near her! We came to rescue her, not kill her!”

Before he could say anything else, Jessica moved to get a better angle and fired another fireball at his head. He ducked and scrambled to the relative safety of another pillar, fireballs pelting around him as he swerved and jumped out of the way. Yangus chose this moment to take a run at Jessica, but before he got close she finally managed to hit Yangus and knock him to the ground. Jessica ran over to where he lay, charging up a powerful fireball to finish him off before Yangus had a chance to escape.

“ **That’s enough!”** he yelled, grabbing hold of her before she had a chance to kill Yangus. “We don’t want to hurt you!”

Jessica suddenly slammed her hand, still holding the fireball, into his face. He screamed with pain and fell to the floor, writhing in agony. For a while he couldn’t hear or feel anything else. Then, suddenly he was aware of Jessica standing over him, another mighty fireball in her hand. “ **You will not get away that easily!** ” she shrieked. “ **I will have justice!** ”

“GUV!” Yangus yelled, charging at her.

“ **WAIT!** ”

Everyone froze at the sound of the new voice. They looked around, but they couldn’t see anyone. Then a voice came from the burning statue. “Jess, it is me. Do you not recognise my voice?”

“...Alistair?”

“Stay your spell, Jessica! I was not slain at their hands.”

“But, it is too late! I cannot control it!” True enough, the fireball had grown bigger and bigger, the heat almost overwhelming. With great effort, Jessica flung the fireball away and it smashed into one of the stone pedestals, utterly obliterating it. He glanced at the shattered remains of the fire-resistant lantern and gulped nervously. Forget her, it was time to go. Jessica wasn’t looking at them, she only had eyes for the blazing statue, so there was chance.

Jessica ran towards the statue, shoving Yangus aside, but then stopped short, as if afraid to get close. “Alistair, is it really you?” she whispered, reaching out to the burning statue. “How is this possible?”

“It is me” the voice said so tenderly, he could almost picture the speaker caressing her cheek. “You have to listen to me, as do you travellers. I do not truly understand it myself, but after I died a part of my soul was allowed to linger in this statue. Even now the power keeping me here begins to fade. Time is short. Look into the statue’s eyes; the truth lies within. Hurry!”

Alistair waited while he and Yangus reluctantly returned to stand before the statue, hurried by impatient glares from Jessica. Once they had returned and were looking into the eyes of the statue, Alistair continued. “The day I died the door to the tower was already open. I thought it was strange, so I decided to look. That’s when I saw him.”

As he spoke the reflection in the beautiful eyes altered, flickering with a sparkle of light. Suddenly they found themselves inside a vision, the scene he described coming into focus to show the room three days ago. A young handsome figure in his prime, clad in bronze armour with a plumed helmet on his head and a hand on his sword, he was every inch the perfect image of a Helm warrior. As he looked around a jester appeared before him; it could be only one man.

They heard the warrior, Alistair, call out “Who are you?”

The jester slowly turned around to face him. The long golden sceptre, the big spiky hat with bells on its points, large curly shoes with bells on the end and the traditional jester garb, there was no doubt who it was – Dhoulmagus. “Such a pity.”

“Pity? What are you talking about? Who are you? Answer me!”

“Me? My name is Dhoulmagus, and I was referring to the fragility of human life.”

“Fragility? What do you mean?” Alistair hid his fear well, but the whiteness of his knuckles betrayed how tightly he was clasping his sword hilt. Trying to regain the initiative he drew his sword. Or rather, attempted to.

“I... can’t draw my sword!” Alistair exclaimed, staring at his arm in horror as he struggled to make it move. His eyes then darted to his other arm, and then his feet, before finally resting on Dhoulmagus.

Dhoulmagus smirked as he walked towards him, his body flickering like a ghost as he drew closer and closer. “I said such a pity, a **terrible** pity, that a shining young star like you should chance to encounter **me**.”

“What have you done... to... me?” Alistair gasped in desperation, now all but his eyes completely motionless. Dhoulmagus walked even closer, a smug smile tugging at his lips. “I will not... forget this.”

“What, you won’t forget my name? You’re too kind” Dhoulmagus drawled mockingly. “I shall return the favour and remember yours as well. Now let us finish this, before I feel any more pity.”

“ **DHOULMAGUS!** ” Alistair yelled in defiance as Dhoulmagus seemed to tenderly embrace him, then in a swift movement raised his staff and plunged it through Alistair’s body, piercing him straight through the heart. The staff crackled with power as Alistair cried out in pain, a small stream of blood trickling out of his mouth and onto the sceptre, and then all fell silent.

His foul work done, Dhoulmagus pulled the sceptre out of Alistair, allowing his corpse to crumple to the floor, and bowed to the lifeless figure. “It has been an honour making your acquaintance, Good Traveller. It is with regret that we must part, but rest assured, your death will not be in vain” he said in a blasphemous mockery of the Rites. He then started laughing as he slowly began to fade, vanishing from the room. Soon all that was left was the echo of his evil cackle and Alistair’s body lying in a rapidly growing pool of blood.

As the vision ended the light in the statue’s eyes began to fade and the fire began to splutter. “Now you have seen what the statue saw” Alistair told them. “I do not truly understand it myself, but it seems that it has been waiting for your coming. If my last memory can help you in your journey, then it would bring great relief to my soul.”

“It does. We’ll bring Dhoulmagus to justice” he answered.

The statue seemed to sigh in relief. “My stay here is coming to an end; it is time for us to part.”

“ **No!** ” Jessica sobbed, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Don’t leave me!”

“One final thing: Mother may try to stop you, but nevertheless, follow your heart and do as you must. Farewell little sister” Alistair whispered, his voice fading as the fire went out.

Amazingly, though perhaps unsurprisingly given the circumstances, the statue was unblemished by the flames, and even the incense burners were undamaged. But with the fire extinguished and the spirit of her brother now finally gone to be with the Goddess, Jessica collapsed to the floor sobbing, completely overwhelmed with emotion.

“What a tragic affair” King Trode said sadly. “There can be no question; this is certainly the work of that villainous malefactor Dhoulmagus.”

“Cor blimey!” Yangus gasped as Trode spoke, practically leaping out of his skin.

“S-Sire? What are you doing here?” And when did he get there? He hadn’t heard him come in!

“Well, you were taking so long that I decided to come look for you” the King answered, completely unrepentant for giving them such a scare. “And it would appear that that Lord Alistair also wants us to bring Dhoulmagus to justice; yet another reason for us to stop his foul reign of terror. This profane villain has brought tragedy to another happy home, and blighted the future of this remote village just as he did the busy town of Farebury and my own magnificent capital. We must hunt this wretched cur down before he has the chance to spread more misery and strife!”

“Well, I will be waiting for you by the carriage” the King told them brightly, darting back to the carriage in a most un-regal manner – another curse brought about by his transformation. They stared blankly after him, still stunned by his sudden appearance; it was bad enough if he appeared behind you normally, let alone after you’ve just been ambushed and watched someone die.

Jessica appeared oblivious to all this, sobbing loudly at the foot of the statue. She probably wouldn’t appreciate being disturbed, and he had no wish to be hit with another fireball. He signalled to Yangus and they started to leave, but they’d barely got halfway across the room when she called after them. Looking back, they saw Jessica had stood up to face them and, tears still running down her cheeks, bowed formally to them. “I... would like to apologise for my behaviour. I just... need some time. Please, leave me be for now; I will see you back at the village. You need not worry for my safety, I can take care of myself.”

She didn’t need to tell **him** that! He nodded and they turned to leave again. And, once they were safely out of earshot, he muttered to Yangus “I told you she wouldn’t be a damsel in distress.”

\-----

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmm, I'm afraid you'll have to imagine that the letter is written in cursive - sadly different fonts don't come through here.
> 
> And yes, Jay is being too helpful again, which is why Yangus follows him to try and keep him on task. It's a full-time job, and he's not always successful. That's the in-universe reason - the real reason is that I needed some reason for Jay to investigate Jessica's room, since there really isn't one in the game. And at least we finally get Munchie's debut! He'll pop-up here and there, but he doesn't say much. He's a mouse, after all.
> 
> I always liked Jessica's introduction, though I've once again expanded on it and on Alistair's brief appearance. I also remodelled the statue to be a statue of the Goddess, which is why it has wings now. It seemed more logical for a shrine to have a statue to the Goddess, but for the record the sculptor used themselves as a reference. It was a little controversial at the time, hence it being locked away in a tower.
> 
> I'm quite happy with the bartering scene, even if I did have to play a little fast and loose with the in-game prices of the items discussed. Everything (except supplies - the game doesn't make you buy food or sleep if you don't want to, but I'm imposing some level of realism) can be found in the game and in this location, and the values mentioned are mostly accurate. And it may sound weird that the shopkeeper is willing to buy a stone axe and cut the price of his boomerang so much, but he's prepared to take a loss on the boomerang if it means a sale on the kilt, and making a stone axe takes him a lot of time and effort so he's willing to pay a fair sum for one. On the other side, the kilt gives Yangus some vital extra protection and the boomerang is useful for striking long-distance enemies, which is something they don't have now and so Jay's willing to pay out for it.  
> Obviously there's no bartering in the game, you just pay the amount listed, but the difference is that in the game defeated monsters drop coins - that doesn't happen here. So the party need to find ways to earn coin, and make every coin count. That said, I'm not going to spend much time on it - there'll be a few more instances, but for the most part it will be in the background if it all.
> 
> Also, another change I made was to burials. I've decided that the people of Empyreus burn their dead - given that monsters eat human flesh, the risk that they would dig up graves is far too high; Church graveyards would become far too big a temptation to ignore, attracting monsters to them and the rest of the settlement, which is the last thing anyone wants. Throw in a bit of religious belief and the undead problem that I'll expand on later, and they now cremate their dead and spread the ashes on their fields (unless there's somewhere else particularly appropriate). For those sufficiently wealthy/powerful/important/loved they are displayed in the church for a few days (protected by a preservation spell) and then loaded onto a boat which is set on fire and sent out to sea. An armed guard would watch over it until it sank, and the boat would be enchanted to ensure that the body is fully cremated before it sinks so that sea monsters won't be able to eat the body. Those especially honoured might get a shrine built in their name, or an altar in the church.


	8. A Small Favour

“Hello?” He looked around the room, finally spotting an old woman hunched over a table mixing something. She was wearing the pale blue robes, so... “Are you the Healer here?”

“Yes lad, come on in. I’ve been expecting you.”

“You’ve... been expecting me?” he echoed, walking into what was best described as a large log cabin that served for the Healing Hospice for Alexandria. It wasn’t big, only enough room for a five beds and annex to work on potions and herbs and the like, but it was clean and bright. Certainly it was better than he had expected in a small village like this one, no matter what the Teachings said.

“Oh yes, Gabby saw you staggering into the village earlier and she mentioned it to me as she was passing, so I knew you’d be here soon. Now, let’s have a look at you.”

He obediently sat down on one of the beds, Yangus guiding him and gently easing him down on it before helping remove the dressing he’d made last night. “Oh my! When did this happen, my lad?” the Healer asked, tutting as she examined the burn.

“Yesterday evening. I had a slight mishap with a fireball.”

“I’ll say you did. Haven’t you learned to duck?”

“I was a little too close and personal for that. I dodged the others though!” Bah, why was he getting so defensive?

“Well, it looks like you’ve been very lucky” the Healer sighed after a moment’s pause. “You shouldn’t lose the eye.”

He felt like he’d just been punched in the gut. “Oh. Oh well... That’s good.”

“Boys – you’d not even considered that, had you?” the Healer sighed wearily. He could only laugh awkwardly. “Well, you’ve got a strong life force, my lad; I expect you’ll make a full recovery in time. Just don’t touch any of the burn for the next three weeks.”

“Three weeks?” But that was so long!

“Lad, had the fireball been any stronger you’d be without a face! It may take a couple of **months** for the wounds to heal properly, and that’s assuming it **will** heal!” A couple of months... How could he fight or do anything with only one eye; he couldn’t even see where things were when they were still, let alone when they were moving about. How he could do anything in battle when he couldn’t see his opponent? What was he going to do?

“Come now lad, don’t look like that – you’re lucky to get off so lightly! With so much life energy in you, I wouldn’t be surprised if you make a full recovery. Just don’t do it again!”

“I don’t plan to... Um, I don’t suppose there’s something you can do for the pain, is there?”

“Of course I can do something for the pain!” she snorted. “What sort of Healer do you think I am? Danny, leave what you’re doing and mix up a batch of extra-strong burn salve!”

“Yes Master!” came a voice from the annexe.

“Right, now lay back my lad, and let me get to work.”

He did as he was told, resting against the pillow. It was stout rather than soft, but he expected as much – this may be a Healer’s Hospice, but Alexandria was not a rich village and Hospices didn’t waste coin on idle luxuries. He was just glad he wasn’t given a wooden block.

“I’m going to cut off the pain for a moment while I administer the salve – are you able to do that yourself?”

“No, sorry, my knowledge of the healing arts is rather basic – I can’t heal myself yet.”

“Nothing to be ashamed of, most people find it hard to master the healing arts – if it were easy, I’d be without a job!” He could feel her placing her hands on his head, and he closed his other eye so he wouldn’t have to see anything. He was doing his best to put a brave face on it all, but it was really, **really** painful! “I thought so; lad, there’s need to hide your pain in front of me – I can sense it easily enough, and anyone can tell a burn that size is going to hurt. You’re not achieving anything by holding it in.”

“I’d like to keep my pride, if it’s all the same.” And then the pain stopped. Not instantly, but gradually he came less and less aware of it. It was heavenly, and he gave a loud sigh of relief.

“That better?” the Healer said, sounding amused.

“ **Lots** , thank you.”

“I thought you might like that.” He was impressed she could work magic like this and still be able to hold a conversation; he couldn’t even **think** of anything else or he’d lose his focus. “Well, it’s only a temporary measure – if we leave it like that in a few minutes it’ll start hurting worse than before, as if you’d only just been hit.” Was that even possible? “I’m going to smear some ointment on it and then I’ll apply a compress and a bandage to stop it from getting infected – you’ll look like a regular pirate!”

“Arr!”

“I can’t do anything about your voice though. Now, stay very still – you won’t feel me working, but I am, and we don’t want to go making things worse.”

She was right, he couldn’t feel anything, but he could hear her smearing the cream on his face and he was sure he could’ve watched her if he opened his good eye. But watching someone work so close to his face would feel weird so he left it closed, and he stayed quiet too so she could concentrate – he didn’t want to distract someone working on his face.

“Can your friend do magic?”

“Nah, I ain’t got the knack” Yangus replied.

“Well, I don’t know about that, but let’s not worry about that now. You felt my magics earlier, right? Well reach out to me with yours, and I’ll show you something.”

Without the pain of his burn distracting him he found his focus easily. He was cautious in case the salve affected his control, but once he was sure of his judgement he reached out with a simple sensor spell. She let him in easily enough, and then she cast a simple numbing spell on herself, making him mimic the spell until he could replicate it. Once he understood the principles behind that she guided him through some basic healing spells until his meagre magical ability was exhausted, teaching him how to treat his burn over the coming weeks. It was a lot to take in, but he managed to grasp the basics behind it before he ran out of energy.

“We’d best leave it there – you’re going to need your life energies if you’re going to heal properly. I’m sure I’m wasting my breath here, but try not to overdo it.”

“Huh? You’re done already?”

“Lad, I was done ages ago – you’ve been asleep for an hour.”

“ **What?** Yangus?”

“She’s right guv, soon as she started puttin’ the cream on you were out like a light.”

“Don’t call me that...”

“Guv? I’d have thought it’d be the other way round.”

“It’s a long story. No Yangus, let’s not get into it right now.”

“Well, I’m guessing the pain kept you awake last night” the Healer commented.

“Uh, yeah, kinda.”

“Honestly, you should’ve come to me in the first place, you’d have saved yourself a lot of bother.”

“I, uh, wasn’t sure I could afford the treatment...” he admitted.

“I’m not going to lie – the cream I’ve given isn’t cheap, and I’ve given you a lot of it. You’re going to need to reapply it twice a day and change the compress daily, and that’s the bare minimum – I’d like you to do it more often if you can, but I know you won’t. And if I give you a supply for three weeks... Well, it adds up. And let’s not forget my little lesson just now.”

He winced. “How much is it going to cost?”

“Ordinarily you might be looking at nearly two thousand, but for you? ...I’ll take two hundred.”

“Huh? But that-”

“Just covers the cost of the materials I’m giving you, yes. Think of it as a way of balancing the books.”

“Balancing the books? But I haven’t done anything worthy of-”

“Haven’t you?” The Healer smiled. “That’s not the way I hear it. Why, if not for you Lady Jessica might still be in the Tower, with us none the wiser. Goddess knows what might have happened to her if you hadn’t convinced her to come back.”

“How did you know?”

“Well, we guessed. I mean, Bangers leaving the village is nothing unusual, but on his own, without Mash? Now **that’s** strange. And to abandon the ‘duty’ that Lady Jessica gave him? Unthinkable. And the two of you left the manor and the village not long after, and in quite a hurry. Well, we were all wondering, so when Lady Jessica returned this morning and I see you with that burn, well, it’s easy to work out what happened. She mistook you for Alistair’s murderers I suppose.”

“Uh, yes.”

“I am sorry about that lad. She’s a good girl really, for all her temper – she’ll be stricken when she realises what’s happened. I’m sure she’ll want to see you once she’s settled things with her mother.”

“Her mother?”

“Yes, I doubt she’ll be happy with her sneaking out of the manor like that.” The Healer sighed. “Lady Rosalind has always been very particular, and Lady Jessica is so wilful, so they argue a lot. Alistair was always playing peacemaker for the two of them. I wonder what they’ll do without him...”

“You know a lot about them.”

“Oh yes” the Healer said fondly. “I used to work there as a maid, and the Albert family were the ones who arranged and paid for my apprenticeship as a Healer. They’ve always looked out for the village you know, training up our young ones so they can make their way in the world. My daughter was one of them, and now my granddaughter too. They’re good Helms, and generous with their purse-strings – they’ll pay me back for my work, and if you head on over to the manor later I’m sure they’ll reward you for all the trouble too.”

“Thank you, we’ll do that” he nodded. Lady Jessica had said she wanted to meet with them after all, and any coin they could earn would help.

“Well, I’m all done” the Healer announced, finishing wrapping up the bandages and the bottles of Deburna for him.

“’ere’s the two ‘undred” Yangus told her, handing her the bag of coins he’d counted out for her. “An’ I know the guv’ll want you to ‘ave this medal, as a token o’ our gratutude.”

“Gratitude.”

“Yeah, that’s wot I said.”

“Thank you very kindly” the Healer bowed, and they said their farewells as he rose from the bed and allowed Yangus to lead him from the Hospice. “So, where to now guv?”

“Don’t call me that. And... if Lady Jessica’s back already, we better go while I’m relatively pain-free so we can get the meeting over with” he decided, heading towards the manor. “I know His Majesty will want to get on with our quest as soon as we’re done, so the earlier we can leave the better.”

“Alright, I’ll follow your lead guv.”

He turned to correct Yangus again, but tripped over something and promptly fell on the floor, only just managing to avoid slamming his injured face into the ground. “Perhaps you’d better lead for now.” Yangus agreed, helping him up and gently leading him back to the manor, both of them ignoring the curious glances that came their way.

Once they arrived at the manor though no-one paid them much attention – not even to offer them Hospitality. Unheard of for a Helm household, but given he could hear the shouting from downstairs he could understand why. Tripping on the first stair, Yangus helped him up the rest of the way, finding what seemed to be the entire household gathered outside what he guessed was a private sitting room.

There was a flamboyant man dressed in very bright clothes, hovering uncertainly – Lady Jessica’s fiancé no doubt, who’d probably been kicked out of the room. The guard was there talking with Bangers and Mash, blaming himself for not seeing Lady Jessica sneak out of the manor. The three maids were clustered outside the door as well, the Head trying to put a brave face on for the others but casting anxious glances at the door with all the rest. Even the cook and his assistant had left the kitchen to join the others.

“Oh, it’s you two” Bangers said when he spotted them, making the others whirl round. “Thanks for bringing Jessica back.”

“Oh, uh, no problem.” Going on about all the trouble they’d had didn’t really seem right. “Lady Jessica told us to-”

 _“Jessica Petersdau Albert, you put such nonsense out of your head at once!”_ He jumped at the sound of Lady Rosalind’s voice, and they all glanced at the door _. “Avenging your brother’s death? The very idea of it!”_

 _“What is wrong about avenging my brother’s death!? Is that so hard to understand!?”_ Lady Jessica snapped back.

“Uh, what’s going on?” he asked.

“When I got back Mash and I managed to keep Jessica leaving a secret – she could have just slipped back in through the window and nobody would’ve ever known. Only she just walked in through the front door as if nothing had happened, right as they were serving brunch! Talk about giving the game away! There was nothing we could do after-”

 _“It is not our place to take these matters into our own hands!”_ Lady Rosalind’s voice burst out.

“...after that.”

“If only I hadn’t blurted out Lady Jessica’s name like that” the guard groaned. “Lady Rosalind might not have noticed if I hadn’t been trying to welcome her properly.”

_“-will not be for **weeks!** You have not even been able to send a message yet!”_

“...They’re having a blazing row now” Mash added unnecessarily.

“I’m sorry you had to witness this” the Head apologised, both to him and to the fiancé. “Things aren’t usually like this – you’ve just caught us at a very bad time.”

_“By the time anyone arrives, Alistair’s murderer will be long gone, and he will never be at peace! We need to take action **now**!”_

“...I never realised she was this... high-spirited” muttered the fiancé, standing awkwardly, clearly uncertain just how to react to the situation he found himself in. He brushed down his purple fur coat, a coat that was strangely like Yangus’ ragged one, a fact that was clearly irritating him no end. He also wore crimson trousers with a purple stripe, contrasting violently with the bright yellow shirt he wore and the fluffy pink feather scarf he had wrapped around his neck. He certainly stood out, but not necessarily in the way he meant to.

Ignoring the maid, the fiancé turned to the two of them. “Excuse me, you are?”

“Just passing travellers” he said hastily. “Lady Jessica asked to meet us when she got back, but-”

_“-stay in the manor and remember him in your prayers, and carry on in tribute to his memory!”_

“I am sorry, but I am afraid the Lady is engaged in-”

_“-we need to take action **now**!”_

_“Action? What action do you think **you** can take?”_

“-in a ‘family matter’, and is unable to receive ‘guests’ at present” Lorenzo told them, not entirely able to take the disdain out of his voice – clearly he didn’t like mixing with the ‘lower orders’. “Please return later, when this situation has been resolved.”

_“ **Gallivanting across the countryside!?** I was looking for Alistair’s murderer! And I am going to keep looking until the day I find him!”_

_“Are you entirely bereft of compassion? Will you not grieve your **own brother’s** death?”_

_“Have you not been listening to a **single word** I have said? **Of course I am upset!** I cannot believe I even have to say it!”_

_“Then why will you not stay in the house and mourn him **as a proper lady should**?”_

_“Because I think that some things are more important than ‘appearances’ and ‘traditions’. I am talking about **justice!** ”_

_“What are you talking about? You are a **young lady** , not a warrior!”_

“You know, I think that’s a very good idea” he agreed, snatching his hand away from his bandages. “Bangers, you know where we met before, right? We’ll be waiting there.”

“Outside the village?”

“Sounds good to me” Yangus snorted. “I don’t wanna get ‘it by ‘er fireballs again neither. She’s got a temper, that one. ‘A short temper’ll come back ‘n’ bite you on the bum’, that’s wot me mum always said. Mebbe I’ll tell ‘er that.”

“You tell her that and it’s more likely to come and bite your head off!”

“Come now, there is no need to exaggerate” Lorenzo scoffed. “Just because-

_“‘ **As is proper for a young Lady!? Who cares about** ‘what is proper’? This is **Alistair’s MURDERER we are talking about!** ”_

“-she is a little... ‘spirited’, but that does not mean you need to be quite so fearful.”

“You ‘aven’t met ‘er fireballs” Yangus muttered. “If you’re still singin’ the same tune after, then I’ll believe ya.”

“Did Jessica give you that yesterday?” Bangers asked, looking at him curiously.

“Ah, yes. Um, she didn’t know us, and since we came to the place Alistair was murdered while she was waiting for his murderers...”

“Oh crumbs!” Bangers gulped. “I didn’t think of that.”

“Neither did I. Obvious, now that you think of it, but-”

“ _We are not talking about this anymore Jessica!_ ” Lady Rosalind snapped sharply. “ _There will be no more talking of vengeance and finding Alistair’s murderer! You will stay in this house and mourn your brother’s death properly, and leave the hunt to the professionals! Keep your own accounts in order, and the Goddess will balance the books!_ ”

“ _The Goddess requires **some** effort on our part, She will not fight our battles for us! And I intend to see Alistair’s murderer punished in this life, not the next!_” Lady Jessica retorted. “ _I do not expect you to believe me but Alistair spoke to me last night – He told me to follow my heart, and that is **precisely** what I am going to do! I am going to hunt down his killer and make him **pay** for what he has done!_”

He suddenly realised everyone was staring at him. “She saw her brother last night?” the youngest of the three maids asked.

“No, she spoke to him – we didn’t see him” he answered.

“We did see ‘im guv” Yangus interjected. “Remember, when we saw ‘is mur-”

“We saw a vision – we didn’t see **him** ” he corrected hastily, before someone misunderstood. “And how his spirit became attached to that statue I don’t-”

“ _Very well_ ” Lady Rosalind snarled suddenly, spitting the word out with such force it made them all jump. “ _I can see that you will not be dissuaded from this **ridiculous** course of action. But as far as I am concerned, **I no longer have a daughter**! I want you **out of this house** **AT ONCE!**_ ”

“ ** _FINE!_** ” Lady Jessica yelled back. “ _I was planning on leaving until you came to your senses **ANYWAY!**_ ”

“Incoming!” one of the maids hissed, hearing the footsteps stamping closer, and they broke off from staring and hurried out of the way. The maids all jumped to one side, while he and the guard and the cook’s assistant did the same on the other side, pressing themselves back against the wall. There wasn’t enough room for Yangus and the cook, so they quickly ran back down the stairs to avoid getting caught in the crossfire. However Lorenzo and Bangers and Mash simply stood there, not fast enough to realise the danger they were in. He managed to grab Lorenzo and yank him out of the way, slamming him back against the wall, but it was too late to rescue Bangers and Mash. Lady Jessica stormed through the door, nearly crushing the Head Maid with it. To the maid’s credit she didn’t even flinch it as it slammed against the wall, hitting it so hard it bounced back and nearly hit Lady Jessica.

“Bangers, Mash, out of my way – I’m getting my things!” Lady Jessica snarled. Bangers and Mash jumped out of the way, pressing themselves against the wall with everyone else and trembling as Lady Jessica stormed past. They all stared after her as she stomped to her room, almost able to picture her as doors slammed and objects were thrown about. After a while they shared glances, left whirling by her stormy exit.

“Did... did that just-” the youngest maid began.

“Quiet Cat!” the Head Maid snapped tersely, her face grim.

“They don’t... She isn’t really going to...” ‘Cat’ whimpered.

“She can’t! Not both Lord Alistair and Lady Jessica!” the cook’s assistant gasped.

“ **I said quiet!** ”

“But what does this mean for us?” the third maid asked quietly. “I mean, if Lady Jessica leaves...”

They all froze, sensing rather than seeing Lady Rosalind arrive, suddenly framed in the doorway. Her eyes blazed with fury, and her face was set in scariest scowl he’d ever seen, and that included his old Sergeant who hated him with a passion. The fool Lorenzo moved to speak with her, but he slammed him back against the wall before he got himself killed. She glanced in their direction, and they hastily fixed their gaze on the wall opposite, pressing against the wall as hard as they could.

They stood there in silence, the only noise coming from Lady Jessica’s room as she stomped about getting her things. There was a tense uncomfortable atmosphere, but no-one dared make a noise. Instead they just waited until Lady Jessica returned, transformed. She’d changed out of the restrictive rich black and white lace dress for a stout wool blouse with a sky blue top and a lilac dress, fastened with a cream corset. Her hair was tightly tied back into two pigtails instead of hanging loosely over her shoulders like before, and a small brown bag was slung over her shoulder.

“I am **really** sorry I lied to you guys” Lady Jessica apologised, kneeling down and bringing Bangers and Mash into a gentle hug.

“A-are you really going Jessica?” Bangers asked in a quiet voice, trying to be brave.

“Yes, I am afraid so” Lady Jessica nodded, drawing back to look them in the eye as she placed a hand on each child’s shoulder. “But do not worry – Alistair told me this would happen. He said that you two would protect the village and become famous warriors. Your mission guarding my room is over – your new mission, should you choose to accept it, is to protect the village outside instead.”

“We won’t let you down” Bangers sobbed, he and Mash saluting before they ran off crying.

Jessica looked after them sadly, but her eyes hardened as she turned to face her mother. He had to turn his head to see them properly, but looking at them then he was surprised by how alike they were. Right now, with flaming red hair and cheeks flushed with anger, glaring eyes and deep scowls, they looked almost identical. Only the greying edges of Lady Rosalind’s hair and Lady Jessica’s slightly softer more youthful appearance marked them apart. He didn’t think either of them would appreciate being told that right now though.

“I am leaving then” Lady Jessica announced, to which her mother made no reply. “Have a nice life. Thank you for being such a **great** mother.” There was still no response and Lady Jessica didn’t wait for one, instead turning and heading downstairs. They listened to the sound of her angry footsteps as she stomped down the stairs, and to the front door slamming shut behind her, leaving without another word.

“I do not know **where** she gets it from! She will be back with her tail between her legs soon enough!” Lady Rosalind snapped suddenly, turning and slamming the door behind her.

“Oh Goddess, what are we going to-”

“Quiet Cat!”

“Oh, the strange tides of fate” Lorenzo sighed dramatically, relaxing now that the imminent danger had passed. “How far I have come, over hill and over dale, over land and over sea, through sun and rain and all things in-between, but on the very hour of my arrival, so does my love leave with nary a word nor sweet tender embrace. I stand here lost in a strange, unfamiliar land.”

“Please follow me sir” the Head Maid stepped in, guiding him to somewhere he could wait comfortably, away from the rest of the household.

“Cat’s right. Where does this leave us?” the cook’s assistant asked as soon as the two had left.

“I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m going to ask for my letter of recommendation” Beatrice told them. “...Next week, that is.”

“Be careful – you know where Lady Jessica gets her temper from” the cook warned her, returning from downstairs with Yangus.

The maid pouted. “You know me, I’m always careful.”

“It’s because I know you that I’m warning you!”

“All of you should be careful!” the Head Maid snapped, somehow knowing what they were talking about even though she could have only just returned. “Milady will not want to be disturbed today – do not give **any** reason to displease her. Jacob, Henry – make Lord Lorenzo some tea and start preparing lunch. Beatrice, you are to wait on Lord Lorenzo for the rest of the day; keep him distracted. Above all else, do **not** let him approach Lady Rosalind. Cat, go upstairs and don’t move or make a sound. Frank, get back to your post and turn all callers away – don’t let anyone else slip by you. If they’re persistent, call me and **I’ll** deal with them. Now, get back to work!”

“Yes Anna.” Having received their orders, the household staff quickly disappeared, leaving them alone with the Head Maid.

“How may I help you, Good Travellers?” Anna asked, softening her clipped tone to something smoother but still sounding professional and detached; she made a good servant. But he got the feeling that she was ready to tear someone to strips if they crossed her right now.

“Uh, Lady Jessica asked us to meet her, but, um, I guess she won’t be coming back now, so, uh, we’ll be going.” Smooth. “My apologies for intruding, Good Host. May the Goddess comfort you during your time of distress, and bring peace upon your household.”

“I apologise that we were not able to offer better Hospitality to you, Good Traveller, and my thanks for your understanding. May the Lady watch over you on your journey, and make your path smooth and easy.”

The Rites complete and nothing left for them at the village, Yangus helped him down the stairs and out of the village, back to rejoin the King and Princess.

“Lad! How are you feeling?” the King called.

“Well Sire, although I’m still a little clumsy.”

“Did you visit the Healer? What did they say?”

“They said I should be fine.”

“She said ‘e should’ve gone to see ‘er sooner, and that ‘e’d been very lucky” Yangus interrupted.

“What exactly did she mean by lucky?” the King asked.

“She said the guv was lucky not to lose the eye, an’ that if that Jess bird ‘ad ‘it ‘im any stronger he might’ve lost ‘is ‘ead.”

“But I didn’t, and she said I should make a full recovery” he told him.

“Maybe” Yangus added.

The King sighed. “I would appreciate a straight answer sometimes” he said, the Princess whinnying her own agreement. “Had I known about your injury last night, I would have insisted that we continue on to Alexandria there and then, not waited until this morning! I mean, **really**. And do not start about the state of our finances – you leave such decisions to me and worry more about your own health! I have told you before, you are important to our cause – without your assistance our quest would be significantly more challenging, so it is irresponsible of you to neglect your own health so!”

“I put some medicinal herbs on it!”

“That is insufficient and you know it! Now let that be an end of that matter!” the King snapped. “Now, how much was the treatment?”

“Two hundred gold coins.”

“ **How much!?** ”

“We got a ninety percent discount, for services rendered, plus enough salve and bandages for three weeks, which is the minimum the bandages have to stay on. She also gave me instructions on how to heal my own wounds, with care.”

“...Well, that certainly worked out in our favour. The Albert family funded the cost?”

“No Sire, but the Healer for the village believed they would – she had been in service to them when she was younger, and they funded her apprenticeship.”

“Ah yes, the Albert family have always been very generous in supporting their local community. In fact, I would attribute that as a considerable factor in their success. So all you had to do was tell her the situation and she gave you a free lesson on healing as well as treating you?”

“Actually, we didn’t even need to tell her our story – she’d already guessed it and did what she felt appropriate.”

“Yeah – came right outta the blue, it did. We ‘ad no idea it was comin’” Yangus nodded.

“She already guessed? How?”

“Well Sire, Lady Jessica did not conceal her return to the village. In fact, uh, she walked in through the front door of the manor. The Healer took one look at my burn and realised what had happened.”

“Oh. ...I thought we were trying to keep her little adventure secret? That was the reason for our involvement, correct?”

“Um, yes, we were. However we neglected to mention the fact to Lady Jessica, and she didn’t see any reason to hide her actions.”

“So we did not need to get involved after all...” King Trode grumbled.

“But if we hadn’t we wouldn’t have known that Dhoulmagus was here, or that he murdered Lord Alistair” he pointed out. “That means he was here four days ago.”

“True, true” the King granted. “And that means the trail is still fresh. Very well, let us get underway and pursue this wretch. Have you accomplished everything you needed to here?”

“Yes Sire, we picked up Yangus’ kilt and some more medicinal herbs from the village shop, and we gave thanks to the Goddess for our good fortune.”

“...Were you not also to meet with Lady Jessica? You mentioned you were going to this morning.”

“Ah, yes, well... We can’t now. You see, after seeing that vision last night she’s more determined than ever to find her brother’s murderer and take vengeance. And as Lady Rosalind wanted her to mourn at home, they had quite an argument. Anyway, Lady Rosalind disinherited her.”

“Disinherited? But that would mean...” The King paused. “I see. It is very regrettable that the last two members of the Albert family should fall out so, especially given the likely impact on the rest of the region, but this is not something I could intervene in even if I was not reduced to my current circumstances. In any case, we have our own quest to concern ourselves with – we cannot right the wrongs of the world everywhere we go. It is a pity not all families can get on as well as my Medea and I, but that is the way things are.”

“Yes Sire.”

“Very well, let us be off then. We must make haste after this villain Dhoulmagus, before he has opportunity to kill any more innocent victims. However you must be careful lad, and be sure not to overdo it. And no more diversions!”

\-----

“Thanks for all your hard work! I couldn’t have brought all the lumber in without you!”

“Not at all, we were glad to help out.” Truthfully it had been hard work shifting all that wood, and he hadn’t realised just how much of it there was when he’d offered to help, but that didn’t mean he regretted offering. In fact, he felt it’d worked out well, all told.

“No, really, you’ve been a great help!” Hakka insisted. “I missed the last market because a sudden downpour drenched my stock, and then when I went to go to **this** market my axle broke. I mean, can you believe it? Alright, so maybe I overloaded it a little bit, but not that much! And with a whole axle gone, well, I wasn’t going anywhere fast, and it’s not like the others could wait, so I was going to miss out for **another** month, but then you arrived and helped me fix the axle **and** let me borrow your wagon as well! I really can’t thank you enough!”

Actually, she could. In fact, sometimes she just wouldn’t shut up. “Well, you supplied the horses to pull the wagons, giving our horse a much-needed and well-deserved rest, so I feel like I should thank you” he told her, patting the Princess’ neck.

“Oh, that’s no trouble; you need a proper workhorse if you have a load of wood to shift, not a fancy mare like yours.” The Princess gave an indignant snort. “Not that’s there’s anything wrong with your horse, she’s a mighty fine specimen, but to ask her to pull a load like this one really isn’t fair” Hakka added hastily. “Actually I’d expect her to be working for some hoity-toity Helm, not pulling some wagon round the back of beyond. No offence, you understand.”

“No, no, I understand, it does seem strange” he agreed, patting the Princess’ neck again. “But we can’t afford another horse, and we could never part with her for any reason. She shouldn’t have to pull a wagon, you’re right, but unfortunately we don’t have a lot of choice.”

“Oh I understand, I mean, who would want to part with such a beauty like her? It’s just a shame she’s not comfortable around strangers.”

“It’s not she doesn’t like strangers – she just doesn’t like it when people come up and pet her without asking.”

“So, she wouldn’t mind if I asked first?”

“Don’t ask me, ask her.”

“Alright then, I will! Princess, do you mind if I stroke your mane?” Hakka asked cheekily. The Princess cocked her head thoughtfully, then nodded, much to his surprise. “Wahoo!” Hakka cheered, immediately sinking her hands into the Princess’ long mane. “Wow, it’s so soft and smooth, like silk! No wonder you spend so long brushing it every day!”

“Brushing her hair is an honour and a privilege.”

“I’m sure it is! I could just run my hands through her mane all day” Hakka laughed. The Princess shook her head. “Aw, I guess I can’t.”

“Sorry, she has her limits.”

“Ha, you sound like her guardian instead of her owner!” Hakka giggled.

“Oh, I’m not nearly as grand as that. I’m merely her escort.”

“You say the funniest things!”

“We’ve reached Port Prospect lass – where do you want us to take the wood to?” King Trode cut in suddenly, making him jump – he wasn’t used to the King being with them when they went into town. Hakka made a squeal of surprise as well, spinning round on the spot, but she soon recovered.

“There’s a warehouse where they store the wood until it’s ready to be shipped out to wherever it needs to go – we deliver the wood and get paid for it there, and we help with the loading if there’s a ship ready to take it and they need a few extra bodies.”

“A warehouse? Did you not say that you needed to get to market?” King Trode asked.

“That’s right! They have a big market once a month, and you can find all sorts of things there. I can’t believe I nearly missed it two months in a row! Can you imagine?” He could feel the King’s stare boring a hole into his back. “Hey, why you wrapping yourself up so much? It’s a beautiful summer day!”

“We’ve often had a rough reception because of his skin condition” he told her, the lie coming easily now. “It’s not contagious, but we have to cover him up to avoid causing a panic. And soon as we’re done with the unloading, he’ll take the wagon back outside town and camp in the woods.”

“The woods!? Isn’t that dangerous!?”

“He’s safer there than in town.”

“Living in the woods surrounded by monsters is safer than walking into a town with humans?” He nodded. “Whoa... Humans are scary.”

They walked on in silence after that, the quietest that Hakka had ever been the last couple of days, including when she was asleep. They passed through the less busy parts of town to reach the port warehouses, arriving half an hour later with no outcries or surprised shrieks of horror. Truthfully no-one paid them much attention, just another two wagons bringing goods in to be shipped out.

“Hey guys!” Hakka called suddenly, jumping up and waving excitedly, bouncing all over the place.

“Wha- Hakka! What are you doing here!?” cried one of the men unloaded the wagons of wood.

“I came with my delivery of course!”

“Your- I told you we would take care of that next time!” the man snapped, stomping over to them. He would’ve glared down at Hakka, but the logger girl was taller than all of them, and broader too. “There’s no need to rush things to catch up with us. Haste makes waste, remember?”

“But I was going to miss the market for the second month in a row!”

“You spend too much time at the market anyway! Two months without going to the market is not the greatest tragedy the world has ever seen!”

“Maybe not to you, but it is to me!”

“Spare me...” the man groaned, clasping a hand over his face. “What have I told you about leaving home on your own? Don’t you know how dangerous the roads are?”

“I wasn’t travelling on my own – I had these guys with me!”

“Oh, and who are ‘these guys’?” Uh, he didn’t like the way the man and his companions were looking at them. And considering they were all loggers or dock-workers, they were all big and broad and very, very muscular.

“They helped fix the cart and even let me load their wagon with my wood!” Hakka said brightly. “Aren’t they great?”

“Oh right. ...So, who are they?”

“This is Jay and Yangus, and their horse Princess.”

“And how do you know them?”

“We met on the road.”

“And what have I told you about talking to strangers when we’re not there!? Especially suspicious-looking strangers like these!”

“It’s the eye patch, isn’t it? But I’m not a pirate, not really” he insisted.

“I was talking about him” the man snapped, gesturing at Yangus.

“Oh, fair enough.”

“Come on Lan, they aren’t bad people!” Hakka insisted, her ever-present smile disappearing as she pouted at the elder man.

“Oh, and how do you know that?” Lan demanded.

“No one who talks to his horse every evening for over an hour could possibly be evil!”

“...What?”

“We’re just passing travellers” he cut in, keeping his voice cheery and a smile on his face as he gripped hold of the Princess’ harness, ready to cut her loose if needs be. He’d hoped for a free meal after all their hard work, but right now he’d settle for leaving safely – this had clearly been a bad idea. King Trode had ducked out of sight, so that was one worry out of the way, but the sooner they were out of here the better. “We saw she was in trouble, so we agreed to help out. If you give us a hand unloading the wagon, we’ll be back on our way.”

“Come on Lan, you big lug!” Hakka whined. “You’re scaring them away!”

“Alright, alright, I’m sorry. No disrespect was meant to you travellers; we’re all on edge at the moment, after everything that’s happened.”

“Something’s happened?” he echoed.

“What, haven’t you heard?”

Hakka shook her head, her short brown curls bouncing round her ears. “We only just arrived. Why?”

“The whole town’s in chaos because of the sea monster that’s been attacking ships lately.”

“But ships are always attacked by sea monsters” he pointed out.

“Yeah, but this monster is different – it’s the size of a ship, and I’m not talking about a little fishing boat! We’re just lucky the first ship that went out was the ferry and they had some of the Royal Guard on board, or they might not have survived. Thanks to that the other ships knew what was coming, but even so they weren’t able to get past that beast before they had to run back to port. It’s been five days now, and anyone who’s tried to get past it have either been sunk or nearly sunk. Thank the Goddess that it can’t get into the port, or it’d be a massacre.”

“Wait, did you say the Royal Guard?” he asked urgently. “Are they still here?”

“Well, yeah. I mean, they’ve been doing the best to help drive the monster off, but they’ve not had any luck so far.”

“Please, take me to them! I have an urgent message to deliver!”

“What? They’re far too busy-”

“They’ll want to hear this, trust me.”

“You won’t even make it past the front door” Lan scoffed, shaking his head.

“Then there ain’t anythin’ to lose takin’ the guv to them, is there?” Yangus cut in.

“The guv?” Lan looked the two of them up and down and smirked. “Alright, this should be interesting. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“You won’t ‘ear us say anythin’, eh guv?”

“Don’t call me that.”

“We’ll unload your wagon while you’re gone” Hakka said brightly, already pulling one of the logs out by herself, and nearly clouting the other loaders round the head as she turned to them. “Don’t let Lan bully you, okay?”

“I won’t bully them!” Lan protested, ducking as she spun the log round again and walked into the warehouse with it. “By the Lady, that lass will be the death of all us one day! Now, you better not be getting any ideas about her, or I’ll-”

“We just saw her and thought we’d help out, that’s all” he insisted. “Once the wagon’s unloaded and we’ve finished our business here, you’ll never see us again.”

“Alright. But if you try anything-”

“I try anything, she’d break me in half!”

“Hey, don’t exaggerate” Lan frowned.

“Exaggerate?” He glanced at where Hakka tossed her log to two large men, who staggered under its weight before hoisting it on top of the stack with a pulley. It wasn’t as if her wood was small either, each piece was a long section of tree trunk that she had cut down, and yet she carried it about by herself as if it was nothing. It was easy to tell she was strong, her small green tunic doing nothing to hide the broad muscular physique formed from years of logging. Added to her great height, she was a giant compared to him. “She chops wood with her bare hands!”

“I’ve told her not to do that, but does she listen? She’s got no self-consciousness at all – she’d still be wearing the same tunic she wore as a child if we didn’t buy her new ones” Lan muttered, running his hand through his dark brown hair. “That’s why I promised her parents that I’d look after her. So I’m telling you-”

“We got it, we got it” he said placatingly; the guy just wouldn’t shut up about her. “Just show us where the Royal Guards are, and we’ll be gone.”

“Alright, it’s this way.”

Lan led them through the dockyards, past all the warehouses until they reached the docks, then along the seafront to the town’s Anchor. As they made their way to the Anchor they passed several ships in various states of disrepair; some had masts snapped off or giant holes gouged in the sides, one was more underwater than above it, and there were several empty berths. All around dockworkers and sailors were milling about aimlessly, while others worked feverishly to get their ships fixed up and seaworthy again. The sound of hammering and sawing echoed around the strangely still dockyards, sounding unnaturally loud in the otherwise still air.

As they got closer to the Anchor a low rumbling grew louder and louder, the sound of a hundred or so people all gathered in the plaza waiting for news. Crowds of fretting merchants and townsfolk mixed with the sailors as they waited; some were simply gawkers with nothing better to do than watch events unfold, others were waiting anxiously to hear the fate of their livelihoods and in some cases the fate of loved ones. The whole town was on edge – he could only hope King Trode would keep out of sight; it really had been a bad idea to bring him into town.

“How are we going to get through this lot?” he asked the others, seeing how tightly packed the crowd was outside the Anchor.

“Leave it to me guv!” Instead of Lan, it was Yangus who answered, and he promptly barged his way through as if tackling them rather than moving them. Lan joined in, and he quickly followed behind them before the crowd closed up and separated them. Naturally they got a few curses for it, but he had to admit that Lan and Yangus cleared a path to the Anchor pretty quickly.

Lan got them inside easily enough too, a few words with the guard at the door enough to see them inside. The Anchor was with all the grandeur needed as the seat of local government of course, providing not just an office for the Navigator and his Charters but large meeting rooms and a ballroom as well. The Anchor was built surprisingly close to the sea, as if challenging the sea monsters to try and attack it, and had been built for strength and practicality rather than style. This resulted in a large circular tower with narrow arrow slits and thick wooden doors, four or five stories high with a balcony that doubled with battlements round the uppermost floor. Inside there was a magnificent tiled floor that sparkled in the sun, a large ornate staircase led upstairs, and several richly decorated doors led into the offices inside. There were also more people, all groups of officials from one department or other, waiting just as anxiously as those outside; for all their powers they were helpless against the savage sea monster that had the town in its vice-like grip.

“Halt, who goes there!?” demanded one of the Royal Guards as they walked over, his bronze armour clanking as he turned to face them. It had been a while since he’d seen the uniform of Trodain, a red cloak over armour and a red tunic and black trousers underneath. Back at the castle they had been everywhere, guarding the throne room, the royal apartments, the entrances to the castle, the castle battlements, the armoury and so on, and he’d been training to be one of the Honour Guard, the elite bodyguard of the royal family. And now there were two of them, the soldiers standing at the bottom of the stairs, barring anyone from interrupting the meeting. It was sort of nostalgic.

“That’s your cue” Lan sniggered, pushing him forward.

He came to attention. “Sir! I have a message to deliver to your commander!”

“The Captain is in a meeting with the Navigator of the port about the sea monster, and cannot be disturbed for any reason!” the soldier replied instantly.

“I have news about the jester Dhoulmagus” he announced.

The soldiers both looked him, properly this time, and he knew he’d got their attention. Now he’d- “We’ve been pursuing this nameless jester for nearly a month now, and suddenly we’re told his name twice in two days.”

What? How- “You mean someone got here before us?” But it had only been nine days! Helping Hakka hadn’t taken that long!

“Lady Jessica brought the news from Alexandria herself” the soldier confirmed.

“Oh, so you know about Lord Alist-”

“Why don’t you come inside – I’m sure the Captain would like to speak to you in person” the soldier suggested, taking him by the arm and leading him upstairs.

“Huh? But you said you’d already heard everything from Lady Jessica.”

“The more information we have the better, right?” the soldier smiled.

“Yes sir.”

In no time at all he found himself ushered upstairs and into a room with several soldiers, including the Captain and his Sergeant, as well as the Navigator and a few of his Charters. And of course, Lady Jessica. He may have been travelling with the King for the last couple of months, but suddenly being brought into a room with so many high-ranking people was rather daunting.

“We have to send another strike party – we need to drive this monster back into the sea!” Fortunately they didn’t appear to have noticed him.

“Believe me Lady Jessica, I would like nothing more than to free Port Prospect from the grasp of this sea monster” the Captain answered. “But we cannot keep sending more men at the problem – we are running out of ships! It’s only thanks to the Goddess’ grace that we have lost so few this far, but if we keep pushing we’re going to have a rebellion on our hands!”

“This is not the time for half-hearted measures! Against a monster that size, our only hope is if we throw everything at it!”

“Lady Jessica, please!” protested the Navigator, a big burly man who seemed more suited to working on the docks than leading the town. “The Captain is right. We’ve sent both our largest ship and our smallest ship, and we’ve sent out both the Royal Guard and the town militia; we’ve done everything in our power, and it wasn’t enough to defeat the sea monster. Sending more ships will only mean more losses, and we can’t afford to lose anymore.”

“Then let me go on one of the ships! I can use my magic-”

“We can’t let you take a risk like that! Lady Rosalind would have our hides!”

“In any case, we have other mages fighting – one more will not make much difference, no matter who they are” the Captain said bluntly. “I know it is frustrating, but I recommend that we wait for reinforcements, be they mercenaries or Helms’ retainers or additional forces from the Royal Guard. With more trained professionals, perhaps we will stand a chance.”

“But we do not have time for this! Port Prospect was founded around the port – it relies on it for its trade and its food – it’s even in its name! How can the town carry on with the sea it relies on cut off like this!? We cannot wait for others to come to help, we have to solve this now, before it is too late!”

“Lady Jessica, I understand how you feel. We want to defeat this sea monster and resume our pursuit of the jester as well, but given our current situation that simply is not possible. We have to accept our current circumstances and-”

“No, you don’t understand! How could you? Of everyone here, only I saw- Ah!”

“Forgive me sir, for not interrupting sooner” the soldier said. “These three came to deliver a message for you, regarding the jester Dhoulmagus. They were about to mention Lord Alistair, so I brought them up here.”

Three? He glanced back. Yes, Yangus was there, but he hadn’t expected Lan to be there as well. How had he gotten mixed up in all this? Whatever, he needed to make his report.

“Sir, I understand that you already know of Lord Alistair’s death, but-”

“Lord Alistair’s dead!?” Lan exclaimed, staggering.

“You did not know? Did you not come with him?” asked the Captain.

“No, I just asked him for directions” he replied, surprised by Lan’s reaction.

“Sorry sir, I misunderstood” the soldier apologised.

“It cannot be helped” the Captain sighed. “Have you told anyone else about Lord Alistair?”

“No, I only just arrived. When I heard you were here, I came here straight away.” What was with all these questions?

“Good.”

“Uh... why?”

“The Albert family founded Port Prospect and are still highly respected here” the Captain explained. “Lord Alistair in particular was known for his strength and skill in combat and many expect him to defeat the sea monster. To hear of his death now would be a terrible blow for morale.”

“Oh, I had no idea...”

“Well, if that’s everything-”

“Ah! No, there’s one other thing. We didn’t have time to mention it to Lady Jessica before she left” Lady Jessica coloured slightly. “-but Lord Alistair isn’t the only one Dhoulmagus murdered.”

“What? He murdered someone else?”

“Yes, Guildmaster Rylus, Navigator of Farebury.”

Everyone round the table went pale. “The great Guildmaster Rylus? Are you certain?”

“There weren’t any eyewitnesses to the murder, but Dhoulmagus was seen arguing with Guildmaster Rylus shortly before he died in a mysterious fire that destroyed his house and everything in it. We were told he was heading for your checkpoint and we’ve been chasing him ever since. We, uh, saw your checkpoint.”

“Yes. That is a day I will not soon forget” the Captain nodded, looking rather ill. “We thought he managed to catch us and Lord Alistair by surprise, but if he managed to overpower even Guildmaster Rylus...”

“He must be stopped, before he has a chance to kill anyone else!” Lady Jessica insisted.

“Yes, of course” the Captain agreed. “But if we are to follow him to the Eastern Continent, we first need to clear this sea monster out of the way, and to do that we are going to need more men.”

“The Eastern Continent?” he echoed.

“Have you not heard? A man dressed in a jester’s garb and carrying a long staff was seen walking across the sea towards the Eastern Continent. Under the circumstances, we thought they could only be talking about one man, as crazy as the rumours sounded. We were taking the ferry to pursue him, but... Well, I am sure you have heard by now.”

“Thank the Lady that you were there when the sea monster first struck” the Navigator sighed. “If you hadn’t held it off, I dread to think what would have happened to the ferry and all its passengers.”

“But we took a lot of casualties, and we’ve run out of men able to fight the monster” the Captain sighed. “At the moment, we’ve reached an impasse.”

“This is probably a bad time then, but I promised Lady Rosalind that I would deliver a message to the Navigator here for her.” He pulled the letter out of one of his coat pockets. It wasn’t that badly crumpled. Why was Lady Jessica looking- Oh! “Of course, she gave it to us before Lady Jessica decided to make her own way here, so I suppose you already know what it says. Essentially, she has requested that some men be sent to investigate and avenge her son’s murder, as well as protect Alexandria.” That should clear things up.

“She told you the letter’s contents?” the Navigator asked as one of his Charters took the letter.

“Yes, she wanted to be sure we understood how important it was that the letter was delivered as soon as possible.”

“I see. Such a pity… Ordinarily I would send some of our militia or request a few of our sailors to go to Alexandria, but with the situation here I really cannot afford to spare anyone. Even though Lady Rosalind needs my help...” The Navigator grimaced, clearly pained by his inability to help.

“Well, if the situation is that we need more men... Then why not ask these able fellows?” Lady Jessica suggested suddenly.

“Eh?”

“What?”

“Milady?”

“Pardon?”

“If they deal with the sea monster, then you will be able to send some men to Alexandria, and the Royal Guard and I can continue to the Eastern Continent to hunt down Dhoulmagus.”

“Well... I was considering asking for additional volunteers...” the Navigator murmured

“I would rather not involve untrained amateurs at this stage, Lady Jessica” the Captain said as calmly as he could. “Without discipline or instilled teamwork the battle could easily descend into chaos.”

“However you said earlier that it was weight of numbers that would make the difference, which was why you proposed calling for reinforcements. As I said earlier, time is a critical factor here, so would it not make more sense to get your reinforcements from the local area?” Lady Jessica suggested. “From what I understand no amount of training can make any difference against a monster that size. So long as they know how to fight they should not be that much of a hindrance in a battle like this, correct?”

“We can at least have one last try” the Navigator agreed. “If it fails, we can wait for reinforcements, but if it succeeds then we will nip this problem in the bud before it has a chance to get out of hand.”

“...I understand” the Captain conceded reluctantly. “However I would request that we wait a couple of days, both for the wounded to recover and so that we might properly vet who will fight and who will remain at port.”

“Most of the wounded should be sufficiently recovered in another four days” the Healer confirmed.

“Sounds reasonable. I will have a notice put about town today asking for volunteers.”

“Good, then it is settled. I trust I can count on you fellows?” Lady Jessica asked.

“Uh...” He glanced at Yangus. Yangus shook his head and mouthed ‘No’ several times. “Sure. Fight a giant sea monster, we can handle that, no problem. How hard can it be?” Behind him he heard Yangus facepalm.

“Thank you, I knew I could depend on you” she said, beaming.

“Perhaps I should check on your eye injury first, before you volunteer?” the Healer said, not quite suggesting so much as ordering as the meeting broke up. “You say you’ve been travelling with this?”

“Er, yes. The Healer advised me not to, but at the same time gave me some salve to put on it until it healed, and told me to check in with another Healer before stopping; she knew I wasn’t in a position to stop.”

“It looks like it was quite a severe burn” the Healer commented once he’d peeled off the bandages. “Have you tried looking out of it?”

“Not since the accident, but I’m told that I shouldn’t lose the eye.” Over the Healer’s shoulder he saw Lady Jessica snap her head round to look at him, all the blood draining from her face.

“Sorry Lady Jessica, we’re used to getting our hands dirty in here. Please, follow me.” The Navigator had apparently spotted her, and quickly escorted her from the room.

“Ah, I should have realised. I must apologise to her later” the Healer said, slightly embarrassed. “Have you been casting healing spells on your eye?”

“Yes, I use most of my magic on it every day.”

“Well, you’re unskilled at the healing arts, but the work you’ve done has been enough. If you come to see me at the Hospice every day, you should be able to use your eye in time for the battle. Just try not to get any sea water on it.”

“I’ll do my best.”

“Good. Now, let me do some work on it...”

\-----

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope people have enjoyed this chapter - I completely reworked how Jay and Yangus arrive at Port Prospect and get dragged into battling the sea monster compared to when I first wrote it, and I'm going to add some entirely new parts in the next chapter as well.
> 
> Basically I feel that while the last version said things were serious, it treated it too lightly. For a start, if I'm going to say that the port was blockaded and this had a terrible impact on the city, why would they pick a random traveller to fight the monster? What other attempts would they have made? Who is the authority in the area, considering that Trodain is about a month's travel away? How does the relationship between Alexandria and Port Prospect work?  
> As I developed my answers to these questions, my perspective changed a little. And when I was trying to work out what happened to the Royal Guards that protected the checkpoint Dhoulmagus broke through, I realised I either had to kill them or find somewhere for them to go. And since their duty would require them to pursue Dhoulmagus, they ended up at Port Prospect, and so became the natural choice for leading the battle against the sea monster. They led several sorties, but took casualties each time (but fortunately no deaths so far) and no longer have the manpower to fight the sea monster alone, hence the reason Jay is included in the next sortie. Of course, there would be a local militia to protect the city, so they would also have taken part in the fighting, but enough of them need to protect the city from other monsters from the sea and the surrounding countryside so not all of them can fight the sea monster.  
> And as for local Helms, the city is relatively new (four generations) and founded by the even newer Albert family, so the local Helms look down on it and so far none of them have moved in. The Albert family are nominally in control and would normally live there, but Lady Rosalind retired to Alexandria after the death of her husband, and left management of both city and the Albert Merchant fleet to the current Navigator.
> 
> Well, enjoy, and I hope you look forward to an epic sea battle next time. :)


	9. A Real Monster

“Are you sure about this lad?”

“Yes Sire. I gave my word.”

“Yes, I am well aware of that” Trode sighed, Medea giving a tired snort. It was good the lad was sensitive to the bond of his word, but then he should not give his word so freely! “More to the point, what of your eye? The bandages only came off today, and I can see from here that it has not completely healed. Are you certain that you are well enough to fight?”

“Yes Sire.”

This was getting nowhere; Time to change tactics. “Is that what the Healer said?”

“Yes Sire.”

“’e said that if the guv needed to, ‘e could fight to defend ‘imself. But ‘e also said the guv shouldn’t do anythin’ that could get the eye infected... like gettin’ salt water on it, o ‘avin’ a monster claw it or summink” Yangus interjected.

“There’s no need to mention little details like that” the lad said sulkily.

He sighed again, Medea letting her head sink against the ground and giving another weary snort as her own comment on the situation. It was a sad state of affairs when one had to be diplomatic with one’s own bodyguards, but he needed to choose his words carefully here or he could deliver a crushing blow to the lad’s morale and pride.

“Lad, I appreciate your willingness to fight, truly I do. **However** , every good warrior knows there is a time and place for fighting, and a time and place for standing back. Not everyone need fight all the time, or there will be no relief for the fighters. Port Prospect has members of the Royal Guard and its own militia to call on, and your injuries have not fully healed. Surely it would be better to bow out gracefully and allow them to defend their town’s honour instead of pushing yourself unnecessarily. One man will not make much difference, hm?”

The lad hesitated. Good, he was willing to listen to reason. “...Under other circumstances you might be right Sire.” Or maybe not.

“However...” he prompted.

“However, things are looking pretty bad; the Royal Guard have already repeatedly tried and failed when fighting on their own, and are now recovering from their own injuries. The militia has also tried supporting the Royal Guard, but there aren’t many of them and they don’t dare send too many in case they leave the town vulnerable to other monsters, either from land or by sea. The numbers they’ve sent haven’t been enough, so that’s why they asked for volunteers in one last effort to drive off the sea monster. Only after the Royal Guard and militia failed not a lot of the townsfolk wanted to take it on, and those that did come weren’t very good; apart from Yangus, **I** was the best in my group, and I only had one eye! And besides, I’m a member of the Royal Guard too, even if I’m just a trainee – I can’t just stand back and watch while they fight against that massive sea monster to save the town! I’ve got to do something!”

“...How did you get all that information?”

“I overheard their meeting Sire.”

“You overheard their meeting? How?”

“Well, I ended up serving them tea, and they sort of forgot I was there.”

“...What.”

“Don’t ask” Yangus muttered. Medea gave another exasperated whinny, and he could understand how she felt – he felt exhausted too.

“Sire, this is the last time they can afford to go against the monster – they’re running out of ships and running short on morale. The town’s already on edge, and another failure could push them off it. Most of the Helms haven’t replied, probably because they’re still at Trodain, and the ones that aren’t haven’t got enough well-trained men to send to help.”

“Not enough trained men?” he echoed indignantly. “I find that **very** hard to believe! Finding trained men to protect the region they live in is their responsibility as Helms! If they are unable to fulfil their duty then I would have to replace them!”

“Well, they fund the local militias – the problem is none of the other militias are willing to come here to help Port Prospect because they’ll leave their own homes vulnerable.”

“That is not the point! Their oaths state they should come to my aid as needed! Not only come to my aid if it is convenient!”

“Well, it ain’t as if they know yer ‘ere, eh?” Yangus pointed out in that glib manner of his.

“Perhaps not, but they know full well that there are standing orders directing any Helm to protect the citizenry and the country from attack, even without direct orders from myself! The situation rarely allows for the several weeks delay it would take for me to be informed of the situation and then for several weeks for my reply to come back after all! It has been that way since the foundation of the Kingdom, and actually precedes it by several centuries, maybe even millennia!”

“...Technically, the Kingdom isn’t under attack. The monster’s only attacking ships leaving the port, not the port itself” the lad quietly pointed out.

“...When I am restored to my natural state, I will ensure that all possible loopholes such as that are eliminated. However I hope my Helms would be aware that I would consider any such argument as groundless and dismiss it accordingly” he said heatedly, before pausing and recomposing himself. “None of that need concern us now, however. The main issue at hand is whether it is necessary for you to assist in this venture, considering your wounds.”

“I gave my word.”

“Yes, yes, I am well aware of that. However you are aware of the risks of this venture, correct?”

The lad swallowed, but then looked him in the eye and said “Yes Sire. The monster seems to be getting better at crushing ships; none of the last three ships that tried to make it out of harbour survived, and it can only be thanks to the Lady that there’s been so few casualties. Even so, we have to do something. If everyone doesn’t give their all now and the attack fails, then the port will shut down, all the dockworkers will be out of work, the merchants will be bankrupt and the suppliers will lose their buyers and maybe their livelihoods as well. I can’t just sit by and watch – we’ve got to do something! And this... this is all I can do.”

He closed his eyes and sat back to think.

...He could not argue against that. Not without going against his own beliefs and coming across as completely heartless. He had made his case regarding the lad’s injuries, and the lad had acknowledged if not accepted them – he could do no more.

Well, he could order the lad to stay, and he was fairly certain that the lad would obey such an order, but the order would be resented and leave a wound greater than any the sea monster could inflict – it would be a breach of trust, of the position he held as ruler of the Kingdom of Trodain. And if they lost the battle, he would always wonder whether one man actually could have made all the difference, whether the battle they lost would have otherwise been won if not for his interference. He would simply have to let the lad go, and pray that the Goddess would let them succeed.

“Very well” he agreed. “If you feel you must, then go. However do not be long about it! The longer we waste time on this brief interlude with this monster the further that diabolical jester will run – we must resume our pursuit before we lose sight of him!”

“Yes Sire” the lad saluted, both of them ignoring Medea’s startled whinny of protest. The lad looked so young, too young to be facing something like this, barely into his adulthood. His leather armour was scarred and battle-stained, and his gauntlets and greaves were chipped and battered, and his thin and wiry appearance hardly inspired confidence.

Yet he had grown to rely on him. Admittedly he had been compelled under unusual circumstances, but the lad had not let him down. True, he had a habit of getting distracted by unnecessary matters, volunteering to help with one thing or another, but he could not fault the lad’s sense of honour or dedication. And now he was off to fight a vicious sea monster that had destroyed ships before, and was only getting better at it.

Medea gave another whinny of protest, getting back to her feet, but she stopped after the lad gave her a low bow as well. “I’ll give you another grooming when I get back” the lad promised, and then marched back to the port. He glanced at Yangus, and the brutish fighter gave a small nod before following after his trusty ‘guv’. The man may be an uncivilised barbarian without an ounce of decorum, but he knew he could rely on him for this.

“I suppose you think I should have stopped him” he said once the two had gone, leaving him alone with Medea. “You think I should have found a compelling reason that he had no choice but to stay here, or simply ordered him to stay, hm? That I should say that we need him here to guard us, or reminded him of the consequences for our journey if we have to proceed without him, correct?”

Medea looked away.

“I am sorry my dear, but the lad is right – under the circumstances we cannot afford to stand idly by. Not only will Port Prospect and the surrounding region suffer, but we cannot proceed with our journey until the ferry is running again. We cannot know how much difference the lad will make, but can we really afford to withhold his support unnecessarily? He is right in that he is a member of the Royal Honour Guard, and as such has training and experience many of the other volunteers will lack. You must agree that his fighting skills have improved drastically in the last month, no?” Medea nodded her head reluctantly. “Well then, we must have faith that he will survive this battle. He has Yangus to look after him, not to mention the other warriors he will be fighting alongside; he will not be alone.”

Medea let out a snort that sounded more like a sigh.

“I know, I do not want him to go either. However sometimes we have to make difficult decisions, and act against our own wishes for the good of others. That is what it means to be a good ruler. Naturally, given the world we live in, you will at times find yourself ordering those you care about to risk their lives, maybe even send them to certain death.” Medea flinched, shaking her head instinctively, but he continued relentlessly. “You will understand one day, when it comes to be your turn to rule. May the Lady grant that it does not happen often, because I can guarantee it **will** happen. The only thing we can do is honour those who carry out the order, and show that we understand what we are asking of them.”

Medea was silent, but she did not reject his words, only close her eyes and hang her head.

“Come, let us make our way towards the cliffs. We should be able to see the harbour from there.”

\-----

“Alright everyone, this is your last chance! Anyone who does not want to fight the sea monster should leave now! There’s nowhere to run once you board the ship!”

As expected, no-one moved. Who would, in front of all these people? How would they live it down? Those who were too afraid wouldn’t have stayed through the last three days of training, and those who did would have thought better before coming to the Anchor this morning. To back down now, publicly, after going through all that would be humiliating.

The sergeant nodded. “Alright, we won’t ask again. The Navigator has generously supplied us with some scale armour, so go over to the crates and find some that fits. We defeat the sea monster, you get to keep the armour – a little thank you gift from the Navigator. And remember, whether we win or not, you’ll get a little something for your work. Now get to it – we leave as soon as everyone’s ready.”

As speeches went it wasn’t exactly awe-inspiring, but then the man was a sergeant, and the speeches would probably come later. Or maybe they’d had too many speeches before, and now they were saving them for after.

“C’mon guv, look lively – all the good stuff’ll be gone at this rate.”

“I don’t want to get caught in the scrum – I’ll wait for a bit.”

“Suit yerself” Yangus sighed, barrelling his way into the throng.

Looking round, they had a pretty good turnout. All sorts of people had come to the trials, but gradually fewer and fewer had come to the training sessions. Although the qualifying rounds the Navigator had set up weren’t a competition (despite all the bets being placed as to who would last the longest), the Royal Guard had turned away anyone who’s fighting skills didn’t meet their standards. Well, they’d turned away any who clearly didn’t know how to fight – he doubted **any** of the volunteers met their standards. To his shock he’d been one of the ‘victors’ of his section, and had won a few lucky gamblers a hefty packet. Then again, he’d been put in the amateur division, as he couldn’t claim to be a professional, so his opponents hadn’t been up to much.

Not many from the amateur division were left now, most dropping out after the fierce and gruelling training they’d been put through so they could keep up with the professionals. There had been a debate whether to throw out those who couldn’t swim, but then nearly all the Royal Guard and half the militia would have been barred, so the idea was dropped. Besides, if they ended up in the water they were as good as dead anyway.

Those who had managed to last until now were a mixed bunch. There were professional mercenaries and guards of course, including a couple of recent arrivals sent from a local Helm’s own household, but there were also sailors and dockhands as well as a couple of hunters and townsfolk. Some were nearly as young as him while others were in their fifties; most were somewhere in between, and all were fairly strong. Many used either an axe or sword, a few others used a spear or a staff of some kind, but there were a couple of bowmen as well. There were mages too of course, but mostly they were relying on force rather than magic this time round – the Mages’ Guild had sent most of their combat-able mages the last two trips without much luck, and there were enough fighters who knew some combat magic to make magic-specialists unnecessary. And if they didn’t come back, then at least Port Prospect would have the mages to protect the town.

The crowd had thinned a little, so he made his way over to see what was left. Most of those here were either bulkier or taller than he was, so it didn’t take him long to find a chest plate his size and he gathered the rest of the pieces and took them to a discreet corner to get changed. The leather armour Elsie’s parents had given him had served him well on the way here, but scale armour would be better protection without question. It was a pity that they didn’t come with helmets, but at least he could replace his old gauntlets and greaves that had been so worn-down.

“’ere, guv.”

“Oh, they had shields too? Thanks.” He strapped the scale shield to his arm and fastened the last of the straps so that the armour was secure. He’d chosen one that was a little big, but with the adjustment of the straps it fitted nicely. It didn’t look too bad on him, even if he said so himself. Wait-

“Yangus, why haven’t you got anything?”

“They ain’t got nothin’ in my size” Yangus sighed.

“What, nothing?”

“Nah, they’re either too big or too tight. But don’t worry guv, against a monster this big it don’t matter wot armour I’m wearin’ – it’s still gonna hurt!”

“I guess... Are you sure you’re going to be okay?”

“I’m tellin’ you guv, it’ll be fine. An’ at least I got the shield, right? You all set to go?”

“Yeah.”

“Right, well, c’mon then – the ship’s waitin’ for us.”

He took a deep breath. “Alright, I’m coming.”

They weren’t the first to board the ship, but they were far from the last. He’d had his own set of armour back at Trodain and he’d worn it every day, so he could change quickly, but there were plenty who’d never put on armour before. The militia were helping them, the Royal Guard not having the patience for it, but they would be some time yet. The Royal Guard were already aboard of course, as were volunteers who’d brought their own armour or like Yangus had decided to go without.

Looking at the ship, it was a large merchant vessel with three masts fully rigged with sails as well as room for oars, the biggest undamaged ship they could find. The Navigator had agreed to pay for the damages of course, just like with the other vessels, but given the fate of the last couple of ships no-one had been willing to lend them one, so the Navigator had been forced to requisition it. The merchant owner was understandably less than happy, but under the circumstances didn’t have much room to protest. At least it would give them all room to fight, and with luck would prevent the sea monster from sinking them too easily.

He wandered over to the ship’s prow, familiarising himself with the gentle rocking motion of the ship. They’d been on it a couple of times within the harbour during their training, so those who got too seasick could be sent away before the battle. What with one thing or another, the number here today was a lot smaller than the number who had first volunteered. But then the Royal Guard had always been nervous about having numbers more than skill, so he supposed it was only to be expected.

There were eight of the Royal Guard, including the Captain and his Sergeant; the other two weren’t passed by the Healer, so they were sitting it out. A dozen sailors were scrambling about getting the ship underway; they were all volunteers prepared to fight alongside the rest of them, armed with axes and knives and swords. Then there were professional mercenaries who’d been passing by, nine of them in all; it didn’t seem like many, but then the only ones around were ones without work or coin, all the others moving on when it didn’t seem like they would be needed for escort jobs for travellers either by sea or land. And then there were people like him, seventeen or so volunteers of uncertain reliability and usefulness; they were mainly there to pad out the numbers and provide the professional fighters with enough cover until they could overwhelm the sea monster. Not exactly a flattering assessment, he had to admit. And they were the ones that passed!

“You alright guv?” Yangus asked as this ship

“Don’t call me that” he muttered, but his heart wasn’t really in it.

“Nervous?”

“Who wouldn’t be?”

“Don’t worry guv. Wiv you and me on board, that sea monster won’t know wot ‘it it, eh? It’ll be a piece o’ cake.”

“...Remind me never to touch your cooking.”

“Oi!”

“Alright, alright, but I’m not going anywhere near your cake.”

“ **Oi!** C’mon guv, this ain’t like you. Wot’s got you so worried, eh?”

“Five sunken ships, four ships severely damaged, thirty-one people confined to the Hospice for more than a day and more than two dozen for over a week, and nine dead. So far.”

“Well, yeah. But ‘sides from that, eh?”

“Asides from that? Nothing much.” He attempted a grin.

“That’s the spirit guv” Yangus told him, slapping him on the back hard enough to make him stagger. “Don’t let the little things bother you – when you’ve got a big fight comin’ up you gotta focus, or you’ll let the battle run away from ya.”

He sighed. “I don’t know how you’re so calm.”

“Calm? I ain’t calm” Yangus chortled. “I know this ain’t gonna be an easy ride, but we’re ‘ere now so I ain’t gonna worry ‘bout it ‘til it ‘appens. No point worryin’ ‘bout things we don’t know, we’ll just ‘ave to deal wiv it when it comes.”

“Easier said than done” he muttered. At least he wasn’t the only one who was nervous, looking round at some of the others.

“Alright everyone, listen up!” yelled the Sergeant, and after a few moments everyone fell silent.

“Thank you all for joining us today” the Captain began. “I would like to take this moment to say that you have shown great courage to join us in this battle, and we appreciate your efforts this past week. The final battle is now at hand, so keep your nerve and stand your ground. Gather in your assigned groups as practiced, and stay ready. The Navigator and I will be leading the battle, so listen to our orders and follow the instructions of the Royal Guards assigned to your group. Archers, mages, you are to wait at the ship’s centre by the mast, to be deployed as necessary. The rest of you, look out for signs of this monster – in particular watch for a large number of bubbles suddenly appearing or a giant shadow in the water, but be careful not to confuse the shadow of the ship with the arrival of the sea monster. Stand ready, and make your country proud. That is all.”

“Right, let’s get to it” he muttered, leading Yangus over to where Lan was waiting with the others.

“Hey” Lan said gruffly when he saw them, he and the others in their group getting into position. They’d all got a suit of scale armour, although their broad frames meant the armour was a much tighter fit; he reckoned their shoulders were about twice as big as his.

“Hey.”

“Yo.”

“You’re looking a little tense” Lan commented.

“Yeah, well, I can’t say I’m not a little nervous” he laughed awkwardly.

“Yeah? Well it’s your own fault we’re here.”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“Out of all of us you were the one who signed up first, and Yangus followed your lead. And as soon as she saw you guys had signed up, Hakka then wanted to join, and once she got in the rest of us had to follow her. So it’s your fault we’re all here.”

“Um, that’s not really-”

“Your fault.”

“But-”

“Your fault.”

“I-”

“Your fault.”

“Where’s Hakka?” Yangus asked. “She ain’t missed the ship, ‘as she?”

“As if we’d have left without her” Lan scorned. “She’s right over there, by the main mast.”

“How come she’s not got any armour?” he asked, looking at where she was squatting on the deck, still clad in only a tight-fitting tunic of plain cloth that left both her arms and her long legs bare.

“...Do you really think there’s any armour out there that can fit her? Without being custom-made?”

“Ah, good point. Her... build is... really something. But surely getting some leather armour made for her wouldn’t be too expensive.”

“We did, but she kept outgrowing it – she just wears the leather kilt as a short skirt now.”

“...You think she’s going to grow bigger!?” he exclaimed, eyeing her already very decidedly top-heavy frame.

“We’ll see” Lan replied, smacking Yangus round the back of the head to wipe the grin off his face.

“What’s she doing with the barrel?” he asked hastily before Lan started getting all protective again.

“I dunno” Lan sighed. “She found it somewhere in the Anchor while we were getting changed, and insisted on bringing it aboard – said it was important.”

“Well she’s going to get yelled at if she doesn’t get into position soon.”

“Yeah. Hey, Hakka! Get over here!” Lan yelled, waving at her.

Hakka bounced to her feet, spinning round and waving back. Then, after glancing at the barrel for a second, she plucked it up and slung it over her shoulder, hopping over to them. “Hey guys!”

“Hey” he and Yangus replied, bracing themselves as she placed the barrel on the deck with a thud and tackled them with a rib-breaking hug – Hakka seriously didn’t know her own strength. As the barrel hit the deck it made a small noise. “What’s that you got there?” he asked.

“It’s a barrel” Hakka said brightly. He sighed.

“’e meant wot’s in the barrel ya lemon” Yangus told her, ignoring Lan’s indignant yap of complaint.

“Additional firepower” Hakka giggled.

“Additional firepower?” he echoed, opening the lid a little to look inside.

He found Lady Jessica looking back.

He put the lid back down and stepped away from the barrel. “Are you sure we need that much?”

Hakka looked at him, confused. “It’s not that much, right?”

“I’m sure it’s more than most people imagine” he replied, still backing away. “I’d suggest you store the barrel somewhere more secure for starters. Leaving it in the middle of the deck like this is just asking for trouble.”

“Guv?”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Hakka, what have you got us into this time?” Lan asked, starting to back away too.

“What? I only brought-”

“Hey, what’s going on here?” their designated Royal Guard called, walking over to them. “Why aren’t you in position?”

“We’re just going now” he said hastily, quickly moving away.

“What’s with this barrel? We had this ship cleared of all unnecessary items before we left – who brought this aboard?” He hadn’t been fast enough. The soldier went to pick up the barrel, but dropped it as another small ‘oof’ came from inside. “What the-?” the soldier exclaimed, opening up the lid. As soon as he saw what was inside, he dropped the lid and called “Captain!”

“What is it?” the Captain demanded, striding over. “Why is this barrel-” He broke off as he saw Lady Jessica emerge from the barrel. Her sky blue top and lilac dress were somewhat crumpled from her time in the barrel, but with her fiery hair and her steely gaze she was still an imposing sight despite her small frame. “Lady Jessica!” the Captain exclaimed.

“Well, are you all just going to stand there? Help me out of this barrel!” Lady Jessica demanded.

He and the Captain promptly moved to obey, lifting Lady Jessica out of the barrel and placing her on gently on the deck of the ship. He then quickly moved out of the way while the Captain asked “Lady Jessica, what are you doing here?”

“Is it not obvious? I came to help!”

“Lady, we spoke of this before” the Captain told her, his voice growing firmer now that he had recovered from the surprise. “It is simply too dangerous for you to come with us.”

“So I am supposed to watch on the sidelines while others risk their lives? Preposterous!” Lady Jessica snapped. “I may not look strong, but my magic is powerful and I could-”

“Lady Jessica, we have the entire Mages’ Guild to call on – no matter how powerful you may be, there is no need to risk yourself unnecessarily. Your life is more important than the outcome of this battle, particularly now with-”

“Lady Jessica, what are you doing here!?” the Navigator boomed, striding over.

“She smuggled herself aboard to join in the fighting” the Captain answered promptly.

“Out of the question! I have a duty to your family, and that means I will not allow you to put your safety at risk. Turn the ship about! We’re returning to port!”

“Aye-aye, sir!” returned the new Helmsman, and he started turning the wheel.

“You cannot do this! I insist-”

“I can and I am!” boomed the Navigator. “I am Navigator of this town, and Head of the Albert fleet at the appointment of your mother! I will not allow you to join this battle, and that’s final!”

“But-”

“No buts! You are returning to port, and I will see you escorted to your room! There is no way I will allow-”

“Bubbles to port! There’s a lot of them!” cried one of the sailors. Instantly everyone forgot their orders and ran to the port side of the ship, their eyes fixed on the large shadow rapidly advancing on the ship.

“All hands, prepare for battle!” the Captain yelled as the Navigator ran back to the ship wheel. “Get back to your positions!”

“No turning back now” he murmured, drawing his sword as Yangus and the rest of their group readied their axes.

The sea erupted in a loud blast, showering everyone with water, and the sea monster emerged from the deep. Like a giant octopus it had several tentacles with suckers on the end of them, though they couldn’t see how many with it half-submerged. What they could see was that its body was almost as large as the ship and covered by an extremely large shell, and just below the rim of the shell two beady eyes and a mouth.

“Humans! Humans sailing over our ocean again!” it growled, if growl was the right term for the high-pitched gurgle it made. They all stood there, stunned – they hadn’t expected it to speak, but if they had they’d expected a roar and not a gurgle. “I hate how humans keep going across my kingdom, treating the ocean as if it’s theirs and sailing all these boats above my head. Their litter gets on my nerves, it does! Well now I, the Great Khalamahri, will put up with it no more! Since you will not take a hint, I will teach you all a lesson that you won’t forget, once and for all! I’m going to gobble you all up, and nobody will sail on my ocean ever again!”

With these words the sea monster launched its attack, two of its tentacles grasping hold of the ship’s rudder and starting to tear it off.

“Hold your positions! Don’t leave any portion of the ship exposed!” the Captain ordered as they started to run to the ship’s stern. “Strike at the tentacles if they come close! Archers, those of you with magic, aim for the eyes! On my mark: Ready! Aim!”

A tentacle lashed out and struck the Captain, knocking him off the ship.

“FIRE!” yelled the Sergeant, and mages and archers opened fire on the sea monster, aiming for the eyes as they’d been told. However the sea monster was ready for them, raising another two tentacles to block their attacks even as the original two yanked off the ship’s rudder and the third swatted the Sergeant off the ship.

“Man overboard! Someone throw a line to them!” the Navigator called, abandoning the now useless ship’s wheel as he unsheathed the lethal-looking battleaxe. “Form a defensive line around-”

Another tentacle seized hold of the Navigator and threw him off the ship.

Blast it all, the monster was crippling them, striking right where- Wait, if the monster could speak, it was smart, and if it was smart then- “It’s trying to aim for our weak points and cripple us!” he realised, calling out to the others. “He’s listening to our orders and going after those in charge! Give orders quietly, otherwise-”

He froze, realising what he’d just done.

Sure enough, a tentacle promptly lashed out at him. But he was ready and leapt out of the way, putting his sword between him and the tentacle and giving it a nasty slash in the process. The tentacle flinched, and the monster yanked it back.

“Ha! Take that you-”

Three more tentacles rose to take its place.

He bit off a curse and dove to the side as they all hammered the deck. He couldn’t jump clear of them in time, but Yangus and the rest of their group were there, a wall of axes driving the tentacles away before they crushed him.

Yangus helped him back to his feet as the tentacles continued to pound the decks, everyone jumping out of the way as they came down and striking at them for the few seconds they were within reach, then jumping out of the way again as the monster retaliated. Even if there was anyone able to give orders, there was no time; they could only react as each tentacle struck at them, fighting it off as best as they were able while those with magic continued to search for a hole in the monster’s defence. So far they hadn’t been successful.

He launched himself back into the fray and got stuck in with the others, but it was a losing battle. For all the minor wounds they were inflicting they didn’t seem to be doing any real damage. On the other hand, while the tentacles were soft and vulnerable, the power behind them was no joke, each successful strike like a hammer blow. And they could only take so many blows before people stopped getting back up.

Then two tentacles shot out and wrapped themselves around the main mast, pulling at it until the thick wood snapped. They savaged the two tentacles in the meantime, but when the mast snapped it brought the main sail and rigging down with it, burying over half the ship in fabric and trapping them beneath it.

For a big piece of fabric, the sail was much thicker than he imagined, the sheer weight of it knocking him to the floor and pinning him against the deck. He struggled to pull himself free before he got struck by one of the tentacles, but it was no good, so he picked his sword up from where it had fallen and cut himself free. Elsewhere others were doing the same, but already the monster had grabbed hold of a second mast and was trying to pull it down. The mages were throwing spell after spell at it as the fighters still standing tried to fight them off, but for all the pain they were unleashing the monster wasn’t budging. Others ran to help-

“Don’t bunch up! Otherwise-”

Too late – another pair of tentacles rose up and slammed into the line of people trying to defend the mast, knocking several senseless while others were knocked overboard. Now less than a quarter of their number were still standing as the second mast fell, and although they’d badly burned two tentacles and mauled the others the monster didn’t seem very hurt. In fact its attacks only seemed to be getting stronger. Worse, their two mages were now out of commission, one thrown overboard while the other had just been knocked unconscious by the falling rigging.

And then the monster started trying to capsize the ship.

It wasn’t obvious at first, the tentacles still hammering away at the deck and everything that moved, snapping off the prow and bringing down the last of the three masts, but then its suckers latched onto the ship’s deck and started to pull. It was only when the ship started to tilt that they all realised what it was trying to do, and immediately started hacking away at its tentacles.

And that was when the monster brought out another two tentacles.

Caught off guard, another half of their number was laid low, so only a dozen or so were left standing, desperately trying to fend off this massive monster. But no matter how much they mutilated the tentacles they just wouldn’t let go. “Has anyone any offensive magic?” he called at last in sheer desperation as the deck started getting too steep to stand properly.

“Here!” Hakka called, holding an axe in one hand and Lady Jessica in another as they crouched next to the ship’s wheel. “And you said we didn’t need that much firepower!”

Lan tackled them out of the way as a tentacle came crashing down where they’d stood, reducing the ship’s wheel to timber. “Idiots! Keep your voices down!” he hissed, pushing them against the stump of the third mast and crouching down behind it.

“He started it!”

“Don’t give me that!”

“Lady Jessica, aim for its eyes!” he called quietly, using the fallen rigging to climb closer while Yangus blocked a tentacle aiming for him. “See if you can get a fireball in its face! It’s our only hope!”

“It’s no use! It’s shielding itself!” Lady Jessica replied. And it was true, even as it was capsizing the ship it had two tentacles shielding its face from attack. But on the other hand, there were only two of them. And if he could get one out of the way...

“Leave it to me! Just have a fireball as strong as the one in the Tower ready when I give the word!”

“Right!” Lady Jessica nodded, already forming a fireball.

“Don’t stop!” he yelled to the others as he scrambled across the deck, heading for the main mast. “Watch for those tentacles! And don’t fall off!” he added as another one smashed the deck next to him, spraying him with splinters as it smashed through a hatch. The deck was nearly diagonal now – they didn’t have much time. He had to do something, fast.

Able to walk up the broken stump of the main mast, he looked down at the half-submerged monster directly below. The two tentacles were still shielding its face, but from this angle he could see past them. Lady Jessica couldn’t shoot over them though, even from here, so that left only one option – force the tentacles to move. And there was only one way he could think of.

“Here goes nothing” he muttered, running up the almost horizontal stump and jumping.

“ **GUV!** ”

He slammed into one of the guarding tentacles, hitting it hard, and with his sword held in front of him the blade bit deep into the monster’s skin. The flesh was soft enough that his weight pulled the sword in a large cut down the tentacle, making the monster roar in agony. More importantly, the impact pushed the tentacle out of the way, creating a gap for Lady Jessica.

But he wasn’t done yet – holding onto the sword with his left hand he reached for his boomerang with his other and hurled it at the monster. His training over the last fortnight had paid off, and it went straight into the monster’s eye. The monster flinched, howling in pain and retaliating by smacking at the ship ...with the other spare tentacle, leaving its face entirely open for Lady Jessica.

“ **NOW!** ” he yelled although it should’ve been obvious, giving the signal even as he was slammed against the ship.

His head rang, his sight went black and all sound disappeared for a few moments. Then a mighty roar filled his ears and he saw a blurry vision of the monster sinking back into the sea. The tentacles gripping the ship followed moments after, and without them pulling the ship over it immediately righted itself, the deck heaving with such force that everyone fell over.

The ship eventually stopped rocking, although it still listed at a bit of an angle, and gradually everyone got back to their feet. Well, he tried to, but his legs gave way from under him and he fell back to the deck. His head was still ringing and his sight was still blurry, so maybe he should stay sitting for a bit.

“Guv!”

He looked towards where he thought the voice was coming from and saw a pinkish blur running up to him. He rubbed his eyes and tried to focus on the blur. “Yangus?”

“You did it guv!” Yangus yelled, wrapping him with a mighty bear hug; he could almost hear his bones cracking. “Well, you an’ that Jess bird! She nailed ‘im right in the kisser, an’ ‘e went down like-”

Suddenly the sea monster burst out of the sea again, the ship rocking as if in terror. His hand went for his sword, but it wasn’t there! He must’ve lost it some point at the end of the battle, and he didn’t have his boomerang anymore either! He couldn’t even stand!

Sensing this Yangus shoved him behind him, and prepared for-

“ **STOP!** Stop this pointless battle at once!”

Everyone froze at the sea monster’s words. Was it just him, or did its voice sound different?

“I must apologise for my actions, I was not myself” the sea monster went on. “I have nothing against you humans, and you are free to pass anywhere you like on the ocean; I have no wish to stop your voyages round the world. I can’t say I like your litter all that much, but it’s the same everywhere so I have no complaints. In truth, I find your ships a pleasant diversion from day-to-day life – as I say, they do not bother me at all.”

“Yangus, do I have a concussion, or did that sea monster just apologise for attacking us in fluent Empyrean?”

“...Yeah.”

“It was not **my** intention to attack you, but I was compelled to by a strange human who walked on the water a few days ago. I was surprised to see a human do such a thing and surfaced to ask him how he did it, but when he spoke my thoughts grew all cloudy. Suddenly I felt this great rage every time I saw a ship, and soon I was attacking them on sight. I realise now that I must have been possessed by some powerful magic. I am mortified; I can only apologise for all the trouble I have caused you. As a peace offering, here are the humans you lost.”

As he said that last he brought his tentacles, now sorely battered and bleeding in several places, slowly rose towards the ship bearing some of their lost comrades. Though dazed and bedraggled they were alive, which was enough to convince them of the monster’s sincerity and galvanise everyone into action. As he was still unable to stand Yangus placed him next to the mast and went off to help, returning sometime later with his sword and boomerang, though how Yangus found them he didn’t know.

Once everyone had been returned and the sea monster had given them a push back to port, Khalamahri apologised several more times and sunk beneath the waves, still deeply embarrassed about the whole thing. Well, it was understandable – not everyone had survived the fight, either drowning or dying of their injuries, and there was the dead from previous fights and all the lost ships to count for as well. He imagined that the Great Khalamahri might keep his distance from Port Prospect for a while.

“Hello there!”

At the Captain’s voice he glanced up to see what he thought were the shapes of the Captain and the Navigator coming towards him. He started to his feet, but suddenly felt dizzy and staggered. “No, stay at ease, no need to get up on our account” the Captain told him as Yangus forced him back down. “I understand you are the fellow who landed the decisive blow against that sea monster.”

“Well, I think that Lady Jessica was the one who landed the decisive blow – I just created an opening for her” he answered truthfully. “That said, I don’t think we came close to actually driving Khalamahri off; it was more he suddenly decided he never had anything against us in the first place.”

“Supposedly” agreed the Captain. “Nevertheless, while Lady Jessica’s fireball made all the difference, I understand that without your valiant efforts it would not have been possible. You have my thanks.”

“And you have the thanks of all of Port Prospect – we owe you a great debt” the Navigator added.

“I didn’t do that much-”

“I beg to differ – you leapt off the mast and tackled that monster’s tentacles when the others had given up all hope, and to top it off you threw a boomerang into its eye while you did so!” the Captain reminded him. “That’s hardly a small amount.”

“But Lady Jessica-”

“Lady Jessica has also been thanked.”

“Though I stand by my decision – she shouldn’t have come aboard” the Navigator said firmly. “That said, after the way we all got creamed by that monster I’m glad that she did. For all our supposed strength and professionalism, it sure took care of us quickly.”

“I feel the same way” the Captain sighed. “For all my reluctance, in the end it was the volunteers who finished the job when the Royal Guard and the militia failed.”

“Well, Khalamahri was smart – I think he went for those he considered the most dangerous first” he pointed out. “I mean, look how he went for anyone giving orders from the very beginning. I think he deliberately targeted the Royal Guard, that’s the only possible explanation for how all of you were knocked overboard – he probably identified you from your uniforms. After that the rest of us survived from a mix of luck and a lack of interest – he probably didn’t think we were worth bothering with.”

“Well if that’s what he thought, you proved him wrong, and me as well in the bargain” the Captain told him. “Congratulations lad, you and your companions will be rewarded when we return to port.”

“Speaking of which, we’re coming up to the port now” the Navigator commented. “All sailors, prepare for docking! Lower the anchor!”

“Sir, we have no anchor! It was lost during the battle!”

“What!? When did that happen? Never mind, prepare-” The Navigator broke off as he took in the damaged state of the ship and its momentum. “Hang it all... All hands, prepare for impact!”

\-----

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Looking back, in my first version I put so much of the context of the scene into a couple of paragraphs and then a small brief fight scene that was quite frankly underwhelming to say the least, especially following so soon after the battle in the tower. Rather than try and build on this frankly weak chapter (and I'd been so proud of it too) I decided to just start again.
> 
> Chapter 7 deals with the first half of what was the original chapter, including the departure from Alexandria and more of the build-up to the battle, including how Jay ended up getting roped into the battle, so Chapter 8 could focus on the immediate run-up to and then the battle itself. Chapter 9 will deal with the departure from Port Prospect and so on. Yes, somehow I did manage to make what used to be one chapter into three...
> 
> More importantly, I decided to make a few alterations compared to my original other than just size. For one, I removed all references to rationing - I originally added it to make the battle more important, but Dhoulmagus wasn't that far ahead of them so the sea monster wouldn't have been blockading for that long and their food stores wouldn't have run out so quickly. In any case there's still the rest of the continent that Port Prospect could get food from, and other towns aren't so far (or stingy) not to provide aid if needed. It was a sillly addition so I removed it.  
> I also added a couple of scenes to show that, actually, this upcoming battle was a big deal, and that Jay wasn't entering into blindly without considering the consequences. The original version mentions this offhand in a couple of paragraphs about how Jay wasn't sure if he'd live through the battle, and how the royals worried for his safety. Hopefully the dialogue I've added will portray that better than a brief description did. In hindsight I should have mentioned more about Jay praying to the Goddess for help, considering how religious both he and his world are, but that would have probably interferred with the flow of the story. Just assume it happened and the narration decided not to mention it.
> 
> Perhaps more controversially, I decided that Jay wasn't the one in charge of defending the ship. I mean, in the game Jessica is in the middle of an argument, literally turns round and spots the hero and recommends that he fights the sea monster for the port! And the port accepts! Bearing in mind that this is still near the beginning of the game, and unless you've been doing some major (and completely unneccessary) grinding you're still really weak. And only the two of you fight the sea monster - not the crew, not even Lady Jessica (who is actually on the ship despite the captain refusing to risk her life fighting the sea monster) join in, even if you die. What the heck!? Isn't the sea (and world) full of sea monsters? Why don't they have anyone to protect them?  
> It was something that had bothered me for a while, and when I was working out what happened to the Royal Guards at the checkpoint I suddenly realised - why don't the Royal Guards fight the sea monster? I had already decided that each settlement should have its own militia, either officially or unofficially, so I threw some of them in as well, and I had a decent fighting force.  
> Only to realise that Jay and Yangus now had no reason to join in the fight. Which rather put a spanner in the whole way they meet Jessica again, plus the fact that the story is really about Jay and not a bunch of nameless strangers. So therefore they had to have tried and failed, and so needed additional manpower, and they had to disappear sometime during the fight and leave Jay 'in charge'. The rest of the fight scene more or less came from Sly Cooper 3 with the mission to give the Guru control of that sea monster.
> 
> Anyway, I had quite a lot of fun writing this, and I hope you enjoy it.


	10. The Paths We Take

She sighed, finally able to shut the door and seal herself in the room she had borrowed from Peter in the Anchor. Not Peter, the Navigator – he may be an old friend of the family and a trusted retainer, but to call him by his name rather than his title in his own office would be highly disrespectful. Especially now...

Argh, she should stop dwelling on it and move on already! She did not regret the choices she had made and she would not turn back from them, so there was no need to keep thinking of it! And yet every time she had a quiet moment her thoughts inevitably returned to...

There was a knock at the door, making her start – she had been leaning on the door, so the noise sounded very loud in her ears. Or maybe her nerves were just on edge today, what with all the secrecy in the morning, the nerve-racking discovery and the fiercely contested battle that came after, and finally the celebratory dinner with the Notables that followed.

“Lady Jessica, may I come in?” the Navigator’s wife asked. She presumed that Urana was coming in her role as her host rather than as Senior Charter of Port Prospect, given the hour. She hastily sat herself down at the small desk she had been provided with and answered “Of course Urana, you are always welcome.”

“Thank you, Milady.” Urana opened the door and shut it quietly behind her, doing her best not to make any noise to disturb her, then turned and smiled. “Thank you for tonight, Milady.”

“For tonight?”

“Oh yes; it may not seem like much to you, but having you by my husband’s side tonight will do a lot to reassure the Notables of Port Prospect. The suddenness and the severity of the sea monster attack and the damage it caused has rattled everyone, whether they like to admit it or not, and they look to your family as their patrons for reassurance. That you were not only here in our time of need but actually struck the final blow will go a long way for morale in the town.”

“Everyone keeps saying how I struck ‘the final blow’, but in truth that was the **only** blow I struck – most of the time I was too busy trying to dodge Khalamahri’s tentacles to attack, and even then it was only thanks to Hakka and her companions that I lasted so long. I feel like a fraud.”

“I know, I know, but the fact remains that you struck the final blow, and that is what people will remember, regardless of the circumstances” Urana told her gently. “And do not worry about the others, they have been amply rewarded for their efforts, I assure you – my husband and I took care of it personally.”

“But not all of them made it – at least three drowned, and one...”

“They knew the risks. And their sacrifice has not been forgotten, both the comrades you fought alongside today and the warriors who fought this past week. There will be a memorial service tomorrow, and we will raise a monument to them in the docks. And they all made arrangements in the event of their deaths – if they had families, they will be taken care of.”

“I suppose you are right; although I did not know any of them, I doubt I will ever manage to forget the sight of their corpses.”

“Which is only right. However, while it is important not to forget, do not let such thoughts consume you – it is not right for a young thing like you to dwell on death too much, especially a young lady.” She rolled her eyes, but she did not snap at Urana’s playful words as she might have at another’s. “Talking of not forgetting, did you manage to speak to that young man of yours?”

“He is not ‘that young man of mine’ or anything of the sort – he is just someone I owe an apology” she snapped, feeling her face flush. “And no, there was no chance. The fighting started soon after I was discovered, and when the fighting was over he was lending his strength to heal the wounded even though he was too dazed to stand at the time. Head Healer Kenneth whisked him away with all the others as soon as he arrived, and I have not seen him since.”

“I suppose it cannot be helped” Urana sighed. “However do not leave it too long, or you will miss your opportunity to apologise.”

“I know, but even finding him can be a challenge, let alone finding him when he is alone or not busy” she complained.

“He does find ways to keep himself busy” Urana agreed fondly. “Such a helpful lad.”

“I had hoped I would be able to meet him here, but none of them were invited of course...”

“Oh, they were invited. They just chose not to come.”

“What? All of them?”

“Of course. After all, the rest of the town is celebrating the defeat of the monster, and I am sure they will be suitably appreciative of the ones who fought for them, whereas if they came here they would have to be on best behaviour and, well, you know what the ‘party’ was like. Even Sergeant Xali turned down our invitation – only you and Captain Oswain were not given a choice.”

She could not think of anything to say to that. “Well, I will have to meet him on the ferry – he cannot find many places to hide there at least!”

“You think he is going to catch the ferry tomorrow?”

“I am certain – if Dhoulmagus went to the Eastern Continent, they will not be far behind, and only Dhoulmagus could match the description of the man who walked across water last week.”

“Would it not be wise to travel with them, if you are both pursuing the same man? It would be much safer than travelling alone. I am surprised that your mother did not insist that you take some of the villagers with you, regardless of the village’s safety, or at the very least wait until the King sent some warriors to aid you.”

“That would waste far too much time – Dhoulmagus would be long gone by then! He has already left the continent after all, and if we do not pick up the trail soon it will disappear! We have to get after him now, or Alistair’s murder will never be avenged!”

“I understand, but could she not have at least sent some-” Urana broke off. “...You left without your mother’s permission.” It was a statement of a suddenly revealed truth rather than a question, and she had never intended to hide it. “And if you left without permission, she most likely disinherited you.” **That** she had not expected. “Do not look so surprised – I know your mother from when we were children, I know how she thinks.”

“You knew her when she was a child?”

“Yes, she was a child once, you know” Urana said teasingly, and she could only blush in response – it was true, she had never really considered what Mother had been like when she was a child. She doubted Mother could have been very different though, stern and uncompromising, completely rigid- “She was very different then. Oh, she could be just as stubborn as she is now, no doubt, but she used to be a wicked tease when she was young. Oh, the adventures we had.”

“Wait, what? Mother!?”

“I am sure you would consider them very tame, but she was forever getting into trouble with her parents – they were at their wits’ end. They had hoped that as her social superior I would teach her to be more respectable, but I ended up going along with whatever mischief she had planned instead” Urana said fondly.

“...You were Mother’s social superior?”

“You would not believe it now, correct?” Urana grinned.

“I never said that! It is just...”

“No, no, I understand – there is a considerable distance in status between us now. However back then your mother was not a Helm. In fact she was only just an Upper Hand; her parents were merchants like mine, only they were what one would consider ‘new money’ whereas my family had been merchants for generations and had earned the rank of Notables. Of course, there are many Notables with longer and more prestigious family histories than mine, but even some of the Lesser Notables looked down on families like your mother’s. And considering that your mother was somewhat wild in those days, even though it was only leaving her lessons to go down to the Docks or explore the countryside around town, they were looked down on all the more. And then she met your father, Lord Peter.”

“My Father?”

“Yes. We had no idea at the time, but he had disguised himself and had been working as a sailor so that he could better understand his family’s business when he came of age. He met Rosalind at the docks one day and they hit it off, but at first it was not anything serious. We just joined with him and his friends when they were at port to explore further outside town than we could on our own, allowing us to relax on secluded beaches and explore caves and have picnics away from everyone, a few snatched moments to let our hair down and be ourselves. It was tremendous fun.

“It was during this time that I met my husband, one of Lord Peter’s friends from the docks. At first he scared me, given how much bigger he is, but over time I realised he was really gentle and kind. And as time passed we all gradually grew closer without our realising.

“I have to laugh, looking back. There was Rosalind who cared nothing for status or defying her parents for love, and there was meek little me who had been apprehensive about everything from start to finish and had to be dragged away from the path my parents had set for me. And yet it was me who fell for the big scary lowly dockworker, and Rosalind who fell in love with the Helm in disguise. The Lady loves her jokes.”

Urana sat there in silence for a few minutes, her eyes taking on a distant look as she remembered those distant days. “You seem to find this hard to believe” Urana commented suddenly.

“...Well, yes. Mother... She sounds like a completely different person.”

“Naturally. The day that we discovered Peter was a Helm, everything changed. You have to understand that it came as a complete shock, and at first none of us knew how to react. Although he had never outright lied to us about his past, the fact that he had concealed it from us made us question all we thought we knew about him, and whether he was really our friend or just stringing us along for his own amusement. When we finally next met, we confronted him; his response was to propose to your mother.”

“He proposed? Just like that?”

“He told us afterwards that he had been considering it for some time, but was unable to do so without revealing his heritage. Now that his secret had been forced into the open, he saw no further reason to hesitate. And as he put it, what better way to demonstrate his commitment to our friendship?”

“And that is how my parents got engaged?”

“Oh no, your mother turned him down very bluntly.”

“What?”

“You must realise, your mother was very much lower in society than your father – if you forgive me for saying so, the Albert family are a new and somewhat lesser Helm family, but they are still Helms. Rosalind never was one for formalities, but it was normally her saying so to her inferiors; having a **superior** say so to **her** was another thing entirely. And while her parents certainly would not have an issue with Lord Peter, she knew the Albert family and their peers most certainly would have an issue with **her** , and that was more than she was willing to face. It was another two years of courting before Lord Peter finally managed to persuade her to marry him.

“Of course, the rest of the Albert family were furious – they had wanted him to either marry another Helm or someone wealthy to increase their own wealth, and your mother was neither. Therefore, in order to be accepted your mother could not make a single mistake or put a foot out of line, or it would be used as evidence as why she was not a suitable wife; she had to be more noble and well-mannered than the Helms themselves.

“Even so she was more tolerated than accepted in social circles here, despite her position in the patron family of Port Prospect, which was why she retired to the estate at Alexandria after your father died. It is also why she is so strict on you; bringing you up properly is as much to prove that Lord Peter was not wrong in marrying her as it is about securing your place in society.”

“...You seem to know her quite well.”

“As I said, we were childhood friends, and it is thanks to her and your father that my husband is Head of the Albert Merchant Fleet now” Urana reminded her. “You see, while your mother and Lord Peter were struggling with their relationship, my Peter and I decided to get married. Of course, once they confirmed he was not another Helm in disguise my parents were a lot less pleased with my decision than Rosalind’s parents were; my father was so furious he disinherited me and threw me out of the house. It was your mother who took me in until Peter and I got married, and your father who offered Peter a more senior position on the docks – I think they felt guilty for their part in our troubles, but Peter certainly repaid your father’s trust and gradually rose through the ranks. Then three years ago your mother appointed him Head of the Albert Merchant Fleet, and now he has been elected Navigator as well. He worked hard to earn it, but it was your parents’ patronage that enabled us to rise this far.”

“...Mother never told me any of this” she murmured, not sure what to think.

“...Have you ever asked?”

“...No” she admitted, wondering what else there was that she had never thought to ask. Then, hesitantly, she focused on something Urana said that had caught her attention. “You were disinherited? Just because you married against your parents’ wishes?”

“Yes. It was a long time ago now” Urana nodded.

“...Do you regret that decision?”

“...I was very hurt of course, but I went ahead and married my husband anyway, and I do not regret that decision” Urana told her after a moment’s silence. “However I do regret that my family did not understand. I miss them.”

“You miss- You mean you are still disinherited!? Even now you are Senior Charter and your husband is Navigator!?”

“Oh, they did write a few years ago, but I never replied.”

“You never replied!? **Why** _?_ ”

“It has been too long now, I cannot forgive them. We can never go back to what we once were.”

She did not know what to say to that either. Was that what was going to happen to Mother and her? Never to speak again, never see each other? Was she really never going to be able to go home? She knew there were going to be consequences for leaving as she did, but she had not really cared about her title or her name and so she had not been all that concerned about the idea of being disinherited. But to never be able to go to the home that had been all she had known since she was a child was...

It was worth it. For Alistair, it was worth it. Alistair’s death had to be avenged if he was to be at peace. Mother had not understood, more concerned with keeping up appearances than Alistair, and so she had to do this by herself. Maybe someday Mother would understand and... Or when it was all over Mother might...

No matter – come what may, she would have to deal with it then. Right now, she needed to focus on avenging Alistair’s death. Nothing else mattered. Nothing. Not even...

“My apologies, I am very tired-”

“Of course” Urana said contritely, getting up and heading for the door. “You have had a long and trying day, and you will be continuing with your journey tomorrow morning. Fortunately the ferry will not leave until mid-morning, as they have a few repairs to complete, so you will have plenty of time to prepare; I will be sure to send for you before the ferry leaves.”

“Thank you Urana – you have been very kind” she said gratefully, meaning every word. “I do not know how I could possibly repay your Hospitality.”

“Not at all, it has been our pleasure. Just remember that you are always welcome here, should you pass this way again and find yourself in need of somewhere to stay.”

The way she said that... “I could not possibly- I have imposed too much already!” she began, but Urana silenced her with a tolerant but firm look.

“Please, allow me this. Your mother took me in when I had nowhere else to go – at the very least allow me to offer you the same as what she offered me all those years ago. Consider it my way of balancing the books.”

There was not much she could say to that. Nothing except a very heartfelt “Thank you.”

“Not at all. May the Night watch over your sleep Lady Jessica.”

“And may the Night watch over your household tonight” she recited obediently, bowing as Urana pulled the door shut. But regardless of the old prayer, she knew that sleep would be a long time in coming tonight.

Mother...

\-----

“Your Majesties.”

Trode whirled round at the greeting, startled but somehow unsurprised that the lad had made his way to report in this evening. “Gracious lad, I was not expecting-” He broke off as he saw Jay sway on his feet, Medea neighing in alarm. He ran over to support him, but the lad regained his footing and stumbled into the campsite before he could reach him. “I say, are you alright lad?”

“I’m fine, just a little dizzy.” He doubted the lad was as ‘fine’ as he made out – the deference the lad always showed was missing, replaced by a tone more distracted than disrespectful; the lad was clearly not quite himself. Not to mention his head was wrapped in bandages.

“You did not need to join us this evening – it could have waited until tomorrow, surely.”

“We have a ship to catch tomorrow – the ferry will leave as soon as they finish with the repairs, and it’s going to be crowded. I managed to get us tickets, but we better get the wagon on early if we’re going to beat the merchants.”

...The lad was usually more discreet when contradicting him as well. “I appreciate you letting us know. We will arrive in the early hours of the morning when the merriment has died down somewhat, and those still awake will consider my ‘unusual appearance’ a mere drunken vision rather than reality. However, could not Yangus have passed on this information and left you to your rest?”

“I suppose” the lad said, still sounding somewhat dazed. “I wonder where he got to. He was with me at first, but then he wasn’t. I guess I must have fallen asleep.”

“You slept?” he commented mildly, his concern growing. The lad rarely showed fatigue, despite being the first to rise in the morning and taking his turn at watch in addition to their travels – for him to fall asleep before the sun had set...

“I overextended myself a little” the lad admitted. “We didn’t bring any Healers with us, otherwise they’d have been injured too, so those of us with magic loaned it to those with healing ability, and I... loaned a little bit too much. When I got to the hospice I had depleted my life energies too much, so they didn’t want to risk healing me straight away. I guess I must’ve fallen asleep, because the next thing I know my life energies had recovered a little and they healed the worst of my injuries, and then I must’ve fallen asleep again. When I woke up everyone was gone, so I came here.”

He took a deep breath. “...Lad.”

“Yes Sire?”

“You do realise how dangerous it is letting your life energies run too low, correct?”

“Yes Sire.”

“Then I will not dwell on the matter. However, I would encourage you to take better care of yourself in future. Understood?”

“Yes Sire.”

“Good, then let us speak no more of it.” However he imagined they **would** speak of it again, several times – he wished the lad would take better care of himself. Did he not know how important, **indispensable** he was to them now?

“Now lad, why do you not tell us about-” The lad suddenly got back to his feet and, after swaying a moment, made his way for the wagon and pulled out the grooming kit they had brought from Trodain. “...What are you doing?” he asked, although he imagined he knew the answer.

“I’m going to groom the Princess Sire.”

He knew it. “Should you not be resting, considering the circumstances?” he asked, Medea snorting in agreement.

“I made a promise” the lad said stubbornly, placing a hand Medea as much in need of support as a statement of intent. He and Medea shared a look of exasperation, but in the end he decided it was not worth arguing over – the lad turned mulish when he felt he was breaking a promise, or worse, if he was unable to do what he thought was ‘right’, and at least they could keep an eye on him here. Medea still gave an irritated snort to show what she thought on the matter, but gradually she subsided and allowed the lad to give her a good brushing down.

“I am to understand that your mission was a success?” he asked.

“Yes Sire, we managed to defeat the monster.” The lad paused. “Actually, that was the other thing I meant to tell you, I can’t believe I forgot – the monster Khalamahri was fighting us against his will. It looks like he was put under a compulsion to attack ships by Dhoulmagus – we didn’t really manage to defeat Khalamahri, just snap him back to his senses.”

“ **WHAT!?** ” he exclaimed, making the lad jump and drop his brush, and even Medea skittered. “You mean to tell me that this entire affair was orchestrated by Dhoulmagus? He had the whole port blockaded by a gigantic monster, choking off trade in the reason and nearly starving the port, just in order to prevent anyone from following him? What manner of man is he?”

“He was crossing the sea by foot Sire” the lad replied, which he supposed could be considered an answer to his question.

“Yes, the reports of a man seen walking on water before the sea monster appeared” he recalled. “I suppose I should have made the connection earlier. Which way did they say he was heading?”

“Towards the Eastern Continent Sire.”

“...I was hoping for something a little more precise. The Eastern Continent is greater in size than our own, and it will take some time for us to search it.”

“My apologies Sire, the witnesses were more focused on the man walking on water rather than the way he was going.”

“Understandable I suppose, if inconvenient. Well, if we need to, we will search the whole continent for him, though I hope it will not come to that. Where will the ferry be taking us?”

“Peregrin Quay, Sire, in Butterwick.”

“Ah yes, Butterwick; a wealthy and prosperous region. I imagine it will take us three days to get there from here, correct?”

“The wind is against us at the moment, so they’re saying four.”

“Three or four days, and we will land in the middle of the Eastern Continent’s northern coastline. Plenty of places for Dhoulmagus to go, but then there are also plenty of people to see him. So long as we find the area he came ashore, we should be able to resume the trail easily enough. We must all pray for success tonight.”

“Yes Sire.”

“So, tomorrow is the day we finally resume our pursuit of that diabolical jester. It feels like we have lost a lot of time, one way or another, though I suppose it could not have been helped; we can only hope Dhoulmagus has not got too far away. Still, Dhoulmagus is travelling by foot, and we are travelling by ship – that should allow us to catch up somewhat.”

“Yes Sire.”

“Very well. We shall make our way to the harbour in the early hours of the morning. Lad, you should return to the Hospice – I very much doubt any of the Healers there gave you leave to venture out tonight. And in any case, you need your rest if you are to heal properly.”

“Yes Sire.”

He paused, but there was no sign of the lad returning to the town. “...Well, why are you still here? Get going!”

“But I haven’t finished grooming the Princess! And I haven’t even started on dinner!”

“...”

\-----

**There** they were! How could she have missed them?

True, Urana and her husband had insisted on giving her a proper farewell despite how busy everyone was, which meant she had left later than she had anticipated. Furthermore, the Navigator had ordered a carriage and escorted her to the ferry, which meant that she had not entered the same way as the other passengers. Then the captain and the crew had all insisted on meeting her prior to the ship setting sail, and then she had been invited to watch the ship casting off with the captain and she could hardly refuse... By the time it was all over they had left the harbour and most of the passengers had gone below decks.

But not those two travellers.

The younger of the two stood at the stern, watching Port Prospect gradually getting smaller and smaller as his older and bulkier companion waited for him. It was probably his first time at sea, barring his brief time fighting Khalamahri, and almost certainly the first time he had left the Northern Continent.

Come to think of it, it was the first time **she** had left the Northern Continent too. She supposed she should be feeling something like awe, or excitement, or fear, or... something. But she did not really feel anything like that. Nothing except a great sense of relief that they were finally moving, and that she had finally found the two people she owed so much and really needed to apologise to.

So why was she finding it so hard to cross over the deck to them?

It was only when Port Prospect had finally disappeared over the horizon and the two travellers started to head below decks, and she realised that if she missed this chance she probably would not get another, that she finally made the first shaky steps towards them. ...This was ridiculous, at this rate she was not going to make it!

“Um... hey!” she called out at last, her throat suddenly very dry and unwilling to co-operate, almost strangling her words before she had chance to give voice to them.

Despite her hardly voluble or articulate call, it was enough to catch their attention. She saw a flash of recognition ripple across their faces, thankfully without the fear of their last two encounters, and the younger of the two greeted her with a simple “Good day, Lady Jessica.”

“Um, hello you two.” Her mind had gone blank, all the words she had rehearsed in her mind, the eloquent phrases she had designed to win them over, vanished into Oblivion, leaving her a stuttering stammering fool.

The younger traveller glanced round the deck, quickly realising that there was no-one else nearby and that she had deliberately approached them. “...May I be of service, Lady Jessica?”

That... **That wasn’t it!**

“I meant to apologise” she finally burst out, the words coming in a rush now that the dam blocking them had been broken. “Properly, about what happened in the tower. I should have done it long ago, but what with everything that has happened this last fortnight it was shamefully left undone as I focused on Dhoulmagus.” Wait, why was she making excuses? She should be apologising! “In any case... I really am very sorry for trying to kill you and injuring you and all that followed. When I saw you I just leapt to conclusions and would not listen to reason. Forgive me.”

With her last words she bowed low, and she was about to kneel on the floor to properly prostrate herself before them when the younger traveller said “Uh, of course you’re forgiven! We forgave you ages ago! We understand, right Yangus? It’s alright, no harm done.”

She looked him in the eye that gave the lie to his words, the burn still not fully healed. “The Healer said you could have lost your eye.”

“Oh, right, you were there then, weren’t you?” he laughed awkwardly. “Well, yes. But I didn’t, so it’s fine. Actually, they say I’m doing far better than I have any right to expect, so don’t worry about it; might not even get a scar.”

She glanced at his companion, and he gave a slow nod. “Well, it does not change the fact that you could have lost an eye, and I want to apologise for it.”

“And you have! We’re partly at fault too: we knew you were waiting for Alistair’s murderer, and we were two strangers in a place we had no right to be in – we should’ve known what would happen. If we’d brought Bangers or someone with us none of it would’ve happened.”

“But-”

“It’s fine. You were going through something I can’t even imagine, and we just blundered in. It’s no-one’s fault, and in the end no harm was done. **It’s fine**.” He grinned. “Just don’t do it again.”

...She couldn’t continue to argue with that, not without making it less about him and more about her, but she would not forget that she had a debt to repay him. “Well. Thank you. For being so... Thank you.”

He smiled, but before he had a chance to say anything she cut in again. “There is one more thing.”

“...One more thing?” he echoed, confused.

“You see...” Now this was going to be hard. “You see, that night, Alistair said that you needed to see his death, that it would help your quest. I mean, you are after his murderer, same as I am, are you not? So I thought, why not join forces? We are both after the same thing, so it would be the logical thing to do. Er, that is... What I mean to say is, uh, can I join you?”

He blinked, staggered, opened his mouth to say something, closed his mouth again, looked away, looked back, stepped on his companion’s foot before **he** said anything, and then fell silent. All the while leaving her on tenterhooks.

But... he was thinking about it. He had been surprised, shocked even, and she could see from his face he’d been going to refuse, but then he’d stopped himself. When his companion had been about to say something, probably something unflattering, he’d stopped him too. He was thinking it over seriously, and that meant she had a chance. It also meant, if he really was prepared to travel with her, that he really and truly had forgiven her, and that just made her all the more determined to make amends her own way even if he said there was no need.

“...Why don’t we go below decks, find somewhere more comfortable?” he suggested. She nodded, although she knew there weren’t many comfortable places on a ship.

What she hadn’t expected was for him to take her to the cargo hold. Or to where they were keeping their wagon and horse. Or for him to heat some tea and offer it to her, in accordance with the Rites. He was taking this seriously.

With the Rites dealt with, he put his tea to one side and asked “Are you sure you want to join us on our quest? I mean, you don’t know anything about us.”

“No” she admitted, feeling a little disconcerted now but determined to see things through. “However I have met you often enough to know a little about your character, and we are both pursuing Dhoulmagus, so why would we not join forces?”

“Having another fighter on the team would make things easier... I know you can do fire magic, and I have seen you armed.”

It was a statement, but it sounded more like an invitation and she obliged him. “I have not had much magical training, but I know some basic offensive magic like Frizz and Crack, and I have been practising with a whip and a dagger.”

“A whip?” he echoed, surprised. “Well, you made it to Port Prospect by yourself, and you’d continue on your own if we didn’t join together. Teaming up would be safer for both of us.”

“But...?” she prompted.

“But what about you? Are you really okay with travelling with two guys you don’t know?”

...Ah, she could see where he was coming from now, why he was being so serious about this. “As I said before, I know enough to know I can trust you, and if needs be I can defend myself. As for everything else... Perhaps I should have introduced myself properly earlier: I am Jessica.”

And there it was: she had said it for the first time, cutting off her family ties, and by giving voice to it she felt something irrevocable change. In some ways it felt liberating, as if a great weight had been lifted from her and she was free for the first time, and in other ways she felt very alone, as if she had just said goodbye to her childhood. She felt like a different person.

“...‘Jessica’?” the young traveller asked, picking up on the distinction.

“Yes, Jessica” she said firmly. “Although... you can call me Jess, for short.” She had always wanted to say that to someone

“Well then Jessica, if you’re certain: Welcome to the party.”

“Oh thank you!” she cried, ignoring his outstretched hand and hugging him instead, making him blush and stammer. “You will not regret this, you will see! We will make that Dhoulmagus pay for his crimes, just you wait!”

“It ain’t gonna be plain sailing, ya know” the older of the two warned. “This Dhoulmagus won’t be an easy fella to take down.”

“What, you think I cannot handle it?” she demanded, her eyes narrowing.

“Oh no, yer a tough bird alright” he assured her hastily. “Don’t get me wrong, this ain’t about you. But it wouldn’t feel right to not say nothin’ ‘fore we set out like. That sea monster’s gonna be a pussycat compared to Dhoulmagus, eh guv?”

“Don’t call me that” said ‘guv’ muttered. “Now, let’s make this official, shall we?”

“Of course” she agreed, taking the offered cup and sharing tea with them. They might not have used the official words, but the Rites bound them all the same. “As we’re companions now, would you mind telling me your names?”

“Ah! Sorry, I hadn’t realised – I thought you knew” the ‘guv’ flushed.

“I’m Yangus, and this here’s the guv” Yangus told her.

“Jay, please” the ‘guv’ hastily corrected.

“Yangus and... the guv? Why do you call him guv? If anything, one would have thought it would be the other way round.”

“Ah, it’s a long story, an epic tale filled with laughter, thrills and tears” Yangus began.

“What story are you thinking of?” Jay laughed.

“Do you want me to start calling you guv?” she teased.

“No, no, absolutely not” Jay answered, sounding horrified at the idea. “It’s bad enough **him** calling me guv.”

“Me an’ the guv, you see, we go way back” Yangus continued, ignoring them.

“We first met just over a month ago” Jay interjected.

“Don’t sweat it over the little details. Anyway, the noon sun was blazin’ down, and those bug things were makin’ them noises they make.”

“It was mid-morning, and-”

“Guv, you’ve gotta give a story a little pazz-azz if you wanna get people listening, you know?”

“At least get the basic facts right! And don’t call me guv!”

“Sure thing guv.”

She laughed as Jay face-palmed; it felt like it had been a long time since she had last laughed. She almost felt guilty, having fun while Alistair was dead. However, deep down she knew that Alistair would not have wanted her to grieve for the rest of her life. He had always been the one pushing her to meet new people and have fun in life after all – he would have wanted her to be friends with her new companions. Even if they were... Wait, what was that?

She listened to the end of Yangus’ overblown story, only made funnier by Jay’s constant corrections and very clear embarrassment. And she was unable to resist poking a little bit of fun at them when they were done. “So that is the story of how the two of you met, huh? Where was the laughter, thrills and tears?”

“Should’ve known a bird like you wouldn’t get our story” Yangus sighed. “It’s a story o’ passion, two men meetin’-”

“Let’s just stop there, shall we?” Jay interrupted. “Also, you’re never to tell a story again. Ever.”

“Well, there are one or two things that I would like to make sure I ‘got’ correctly” she said. “Yangus, are you saying that you used to be a bandit? And that you first met when you tried to mug Jay?”

“Er, yeah.”

“And when the bridge broke, Jay rescued you?”

“Yeah!”

“Why?”

“Well, wouldn’t you?” Jay spluttered.

“No, I would have sent a fireball after him to help him down” she said bluntly.

“Oh. Uh, well, I guess... I don’t know. I just did. And it turned out okay! I’d be dead without him.”

“So Yangus is from Pickham, but I guessed that much already. What about you?”

“Ah, well, let me start by saying that I know you’re not going to believe me” Jay began.

“What? No, I will-”

“ **Yangus** still doesn’t believe me-”

“It ain’t that I think the guv is lying” Yangus interrupted. “It’s just difficult to unnerstand, you know?”

“-and if **he** doesn’t believe me after a month, I don’t think you’ll believe me either. Just remember we’ve already established that Dhoulmagus can walk on water and can mind-control a sea monster the size of a ship, and keep an open mind about it.”

“O-okay.” Something crazier than walking on water and controlling monsters? How?

“Where to begin...? You remember I mentioned Guildmaster Rylus last week? Dhoulmagus used to be his apprentice.”

“ **What!?** ”

“From what I understand he wasn’t a very good one, and Guildmaster Rylus kicked him out of the Mages’ Guild. We think this is why he murdered Guildmaster Rylus a couple of weeks ago.”

“So you are saying he murdered **his own master?”**

“Yes, but I’m getting ahead of myself. You see, alone Dhoulmagus’ powers weren’t that great-”

“But then how did he kill my brother and Guildmaster Rylus?”

“I’m getting to that. You see, he heard of a magical artefact in Trodain that could greatly enhance his magical power-”

“The magic sceptre.”

“You’ve heard of it?”

“Oh yes, it is quite a popular rumour. But it is only a rumour, no-one knows for sure whether- Ah! Dhoulmagus’ staff! That was it?”

“Yes, he broke into the Treasure Chamber and stole it. He then used its power to curse the Royal Family, who happened to disturb him, and then all of Trodain.”

“Wait, **all of Trodain?** ”

“The entire capital, yes.”

She let that sink in a moment. “That... that cannot be possible! The whole capital!?”

“And most of the Helms – they had gathered to celebrate the Princess’ engagement.”

“That is-” She froze. Mother had mentioned that she had not heard from the other Helms in a while. That was not necessarily unusual, they were quite remote, but she had been waiting for some correspondence from one of her friends at Trodain and that they had not replied yet was strange. In addition, Navigator Peter had said that it was odd that the local Helms had not been in touch, even if they did not know about the sea monster, as they usually were constantly interfering in his work. But that could not mean... It was impossible that...

“How do you know this?”

“How do you think?” Jay replied, smiling wearily at her.

“...You were there?”

“Mm. I was a member of the Royal Honour Guard, if only a trainee. I was on duty that night when the curse struck and the entire castle covered in thorns. Apart from Their Majesties, no-one else in the capital was spared, not even the animals.”

“So the Royal Family survived?”

Jay nodded. “They were inside the magic circle that used to seal the Magic Sceptre away, so when the capital was destroyed they were protected, but they didn’t get away unscathed.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ll understand when you see them.”

“See them!? You mean they’re here!?”

“Oh yes. In fact you’ve already met the Princess” he told her, gesturing to the horse watching them. “Jessica, meet Princess Medea, or Mare-dea; Dhoulmagus has a sick sense of humour.” To her utter shock, the horse dropped to one knee and dipped its head in the best approximation a horse could make of a bow. She bowed back even as she tried to process all this. “I should also introduce you to King Trode, or King Toad as Dhoulmagus called him.”

“ **King Trode has been turned into a toad!?”**

“Not exactly – the curse didn’t work as intended, but... Well, I’ll let him speak for himself. Just, don’t scream.”

“O-okay.”

“Are you ready Sire?”

“...Yes, thank you for the introduction.” And with that... **something** stepped into the ring of light of their torches. It was a short, squat figure, about the size of a child but broader and... green. Not grass green either, but a sickly putrid shade of green with dark purple lips. As it pulled back its hood she could see it had large bug-like eyes and a large mouth full of crooked yellow teeth. Its head was completely bald and covered with saggy wrinkles. It was a monster.

“Thank you for not screaming; you are a brave young woman” the monster said at last, in a voice that sounded too dignified (too regal, part of her said) to come out of such a hideous body. “Yes, as much as it pains me to say it given my current form, I am the King of Trodain. It is a pleasure to meet you La- no, it is just Jessica now, is it not?”

“That’s right, just Jessica” she found herself saying.

“I understand” the small figure said gravely. “Well Jessica, it is a pleasure to welcome you among our party. I have not seen you in action like Jay has, but I have high hopes for you. I understand why you want to find Dhoulmagus, and I imagine you can see why **we** are after him: not only to remove the curse placed on my daughter and myself, but also that placed on Trodain so that my capital and my people can be restored.

“Now, I can imagine this might seem an awful lot to take in right now, so if you would like a moment to yourself to get your thoughts in order, I am more than willing to allow you to do so. I have one request: do not tell anyone of my presence here. While Jay did clear my passage with the Navigator, we did not go into detail about my appearance, and I would rather that no-one finds out. Not only is it embarrassing, but there have been a few unfortunate incidents, and I am keen to avoid a repeat of them. I am sure you understand.”

“Of course” she said faintly.

“Excellent, I knew I could count on you” the monster smiled, and she just about managed not to flinch. “Well, you know where to find us. Feel free to go back on deck if you wish to take a breather, we will be here when you return. It is not as if there is anywhere for me to go at the moment...”

“Thank you.” She rose and took a few unsteady steps that she would have liked to have blamed on the rocking of the ship, then climbed back up the stairs until she reached the deck. She drew short of heading for the cabin, as either the ship’s captain or Navigator Peter would be waiting for her, so she walked over the prow and stared out to sea, trying to formulate her thoughts.

Jay had said she didn’t know who they were, and she had confidently replied that she had a measure of them. How little she knew! One was a former bandit, and the other claimed that Trodain had been destroyed, and both travelled with something that could only be described as a monster. By all rights she should inform the Navigator and have them seized and handed over to the local authorities or the Church.

Yet, Jay had warned her from the start that his story was unbelievable, and pointed out that she had already lived through some unbelievable things already this last month. He had only mentioned how Dhoulmagus had been seen walking across water and had apparently placed a compulsion on a giant sea monster, but she knew what he had really been thinking but too tactful to mention was their meeting with the spirit of her brother. Not only had her dead brother spoken to her, and she had actually had a conversation with him rather than just hear him speak, she had also been shown a vision of how he died through the statue’s eyes. Even Mother had not believed her when she had told her, but she knew without a doubt that it had been Alistair she spoke to.

But for an entire city to be destroyed by one man!? No man could have that much power! It was just impossible! Even if it were possible for an entire city to be cursed, of all places the capital would be one of the last! It had the largest Mages’ Guild in the whole continent, not to mention it housed the largest militia and the base of the Royal Guard – it was the best protected of all the cities in the Northern Continent, and one of the best protected in the world! Only the Holy Isle of Neos or Savella could claim to be better protected! For Trodain of all places to be destroyed, especially by a single man, it was just impossible!

Even if Mother had not heard from her friends in Trodain, that did not mean the city had been destroyed! Messenger falcons were eaten by monsters all the time, or went astray due to bad weather or a host of other things – that did not mean that something had happened to the sender! And that was assuming that the sender had sent the message in the first place – anything could have happened to delay their reply.

And as for that monster that claimed to be King of Trodain under a curse... That was plainly ridiculous. She knew full body transformations were possible, she had read that book of spells Alistair had bought her countless times, even if it did not tell her how to cast them, but the idea that someone would be able to cast one on the King in the middle of his own castle... Provisions had been put in place almost as soon as the spell first became known! All Kings and their closest advisors wore anti-magic bracelets, and the castle guards were well trained in anti-mage techniques – to allow a single mage to curse the King would be the height of incompetence! It could never happen! ...Could it?

Hearing footsteps behind her, she took an educated guess and said without looking “Coming to check up on me?”

“Summink like that.”

Yangus? Not who she had expected. She had thought it most likely to be Jay trying to convince her of his story, or perhaps a sailor or the Navigator wanting to ask her how she was and bother her with awkward small talk. But the ill-kempt and clearly ill-educated Yangus, whom as far as she had gathered had little interest in anything other than his ‘guv’...? No, she had not expected him.

Turning to look at him, she noticed he wasn’t even looking at her, just leaning on the ship’s railing looking at the sea. She did not know quite what to make of it. “Something like that?” she prompted.

“The guv said I should ‘ang about ‘til you wanted to talk” Yangus said simply.

“Oh.” Well, that was refreshingly direct. But, why would she want to talk with **him**?

...

Confound it all, she did want to talk to him!

“What do you make of it all?” she found herself asking, almost against her will. After all, it was not as if she believed Jay’s ridiculous story. Even if he struck her as someone unable to lie, his story was just-

“Complete nonsense.”

“Huh?”

“That’s wot yer thinkin’, right?” Yangus said.

“Uh...”

“It’s only natural, eh? A story like that, wiv an evil wizard cursin’ a king ‘n’ princess ‘n’ kingdom, an’ a small group sent out to save it – like some sorta fairy tale, eh?”

“Uh, well...”

“S’alright. It’s wot I thought when the guv first told me, right after ‘e saved me life at the bridge. An’ I thought I’d signed up wiv a right loony. I mean, who saves the life o’ a man tryin’ to mug ‘em, eh? Sooner push ‘im off a cliff, eh?”

“Uh...” She was beginning to regret saying that now.

“But when I thought ‘bout it, I realised summink:”

“...What?” she asked, surprising herself with how much she wanted to hear what he had to say.

“I didn’t care.”

“Huh?”

“I didn’t care. Still don’t.”

“ **What?** ” She felt so thrown off balance, she felt like she was falling. “Why not?”

“’Cos it don’t matter.”

“Huh?”

“Well, I swore an oath to the guv ‘cos ‘e saved me life. There weren’t anythin’ in it fer ‘im, ‘e ‘ad no reason to an’ every reason not to, but ‘e did it anyway. So it don’t matter who ‘e ‘is or wot ‘e says, when yer get down to it, that’s wot matters – ‘e saved me life, an’ I swore an oath to follow ‘im. Everything else is just...” Yangus shrugged. “...little stuff.”

“...Even if what he says is ridiculous?”

“’alf the stuff the guv says is nuts – ‘e even volunteered to fight some monster sea monster when someone asked ‘im to.” She blushed at the reminder. “But that don’t mean that I won’t follow ‘im.”

“Right.”

“An’ I reckon it’s the same for you.”

“...Huh?” She should really stop saying that. “Why do you say that?”

“Well, I gotta admit, I ain’t got many intelligents” Yangus began. “I never did study nothin’, an’ it takes me a long time to work things out. People always told me that the rest o’ me might get bigger, but wot’s in me noggin’ never would. An’ I gotta say that they were right. But one thing I’ve learned over the years is people. I’m good wiv people. Gimme time an’ I can guess wot they’re thinkin’ an’ why they’re thinkin’ it. An’ right now yer easy – you want revenge, an’ nowt else matters. An’ I’ll tell ya summink else – yer want yer revenge, but you dunno ‘ow to get it.”

She was simply unable to reply.

“See, it’s like the guv said – yer managed to get to Port Prospect on yer tod, followin’ Dhoulmagus. But that was easy – yer on yer ‘ome turf, an’ you knew which way Dhoulmagus was ‘eaded an’ you ‘ad the Royal Guard leadin’ the way for ya. I reckon all you ‘ad to do was ask an’ someone’d walk wiv ya all the way to Port Prospect, ‘cos they knew who you are.”

“Were” she corrected stubbornly.

“Wotever. Thing is, the guv thinks you managed to get to Port Prospect by yerself, ‘cos that’s ‘ow **we** did it, but really you only made it ‘cos you ‘ad people ‘elpin’ ya every step o’ the way. Wivout them, you’d ‘ave no idea where yer goin’ or wot yer doin’. You ain’t even left yer ‘ome town before, ‘ad ya? An’ you ain’t never been nowhere on yer tod. But now yer in a different continent, no-one knows who you are, an’ the monsters are gonna be tougher than anyfin’ you’ve faced ‘til now. An’ you know it.”

“...yes” she admitted in a small voice. She had not admitted it to anyone else, not even to herself, but it was true – she was scared.

“An’ that’s why it don’t matter wot the guv says or where ‘e’s from – you ain’t gonna tell anyone else, ‘cos you wanna come wiv us. ‘cos if you don’t, then you’ll be on yer own, an’ you know you can’t do it on yer own.”

...She could not deny it, what he said was true. She had underestimated how long it would take to catch Dhoulmagus, and how much coin she would need to pursue him. Without her former status she could not summon help, and without the coin she would not be able to hire any either. She lacked the fighting ability and experience to travel on her own, and right now she was not even sure where to start looking. She needed them a lot more than they needed her.

“...So what now?” she asked, feeling defeated.

“Tell the guv it don’t matter who granddad is, yer comin’ wiv us to find Dhoulmagus. The guv’ll understand that – ‘e wouldn’t believe ya if you said you believed ‘im an’ all. An’ then yer one o’ us.”

She nodded, unable to think of anything to say, and after a few moments she strode back down into the cargo hold, Yangus slowly making his own way after her.

“Ah! Jessica” Jay began, scrambling to his feet as he saw her.

“Jess” she corrected. “There is no need to stand on ceremony – we are all in this together now, right?”

“We are? So, you mean...”

“I do not know what to make of your story, but that is hardly the main issue – what is important is that we are all after Dhoulmagus for our own reasons, right?” she said, able to put her mask of confidence back on and sound a lot more certain than she felt.

“Right” Jay agreed eagerly. “We’ll have chance to prove it to you later, but for now it’ll do. Right Sire?”

“I suppose it will have to” the ‘king’ sighed. “It is somewhat painful, but I must concede I am hardly my usual self – I cannot expect people to believe who I am without some form of evidence.”

“Well then, that, as they say is that. What now?” she asked.

“We need to prepare for when we arrive at the Eastern Continent” Jay told her, taking control again. She was beginning to see that Jay was the one who led the group, regardless of the ‘king’s’ supposed status. “We’ll need to buy some more supplies of course, and anything else we might need before we set after Dhoulmagus, as we won’t get another opportunity to go shopping for some time once we’ve left port. Not for quality merchandise anyway.”

“What sort of things will we be buying?”

“Well, that depends on what we have and how much coin we have. What did you bring with you? Bring your luggage down, and I’ll have a look at your equipment.”

She quickly fetched it from her room, managing to avoid getting intercepted by anyone on the way there and back, and quashed the resentment she felt at seeing Jay root through her things – this was not the time for privacy, and Jay was as delicate as he could be. At least she had removed her small clothes before Jay saw them.

“No armour” Jay muttered.

“Mages do not need armour” she pointed out.

“They do if they want to stay alive” Jay countered without even looking up. It was said without venom, but being so flatly contradicted did make her start. Yangus grinned as Jay continued on, oblivious to her shock, and she smiled weakly back; she had wanted to do without the airs and graces, but it was still somewhat of a surprise to hear someone speak to her so familiarly. She supposed she really was just part of the group now.

“You’ve not got much coin” Jay continued. “Pity, we could do with more funds, especially if we’re going to buy new armour.”

“Perhaps I might be able to help with the armour problem.”

“Cor blimey!” Yangus jumped as the king spoke suddenly, appearing from the shadows and making them all jump.

“My apologies, I did not mean to startle you my dear” Trode apologised, ignoring Yangus. “However, I do believe I have something in the wagon that might be of assistance. If you would excuse me one moment.” Trode walked over the wagon and took an undignified little jump in order to climb up into the wagon, Jay tacitly happening to look back at her things and pretending not to notice. Once inside there was a little rummaging, and then “Behold! My greatest, most glorious treasure!” Trode declared. “Can you tell what it is?”

“...An expensive pot?” Jay guessed.

“A bloomin’ ‘eavy pot” Yangus muttered.

“No, no, no!” Trode snapped. “This is... an Alchemy Pot!”

“I have heard of those!” she exclaimed. “Are they not extremely rare and expensive?”

“Indeed they are” Trode said proudly. “There are only a few in existence, created back in the Lost Age and enchanted with powerful magics; this one has been in the family for generations, acquired from one of our Helms some years ago. I dabbled with it when I was younger, but I never seriously explored its capacity as there was never any need. When the Castle fell though, I knew that its presence would be invaluable. Sadly, it was damaged when the curse struck, but last night I finally managed to fix it!”

As Trode paused Jay obediently started clapping, Medea joining in as best as she could be tapping her hoof on the floor. “No, no, you can thank me later” Trode said with false modesty, soaking up the applause.

“Yeah, yeah, yer wonderful granddad. So this is the wotjamacallit you’ve been fixin' up. Does this mean you’ll stop makin’ a racket every night?”

“I do not know why you complain of a racket, considering how loud your snoring is” Trode sniffed. “As it happens, it is not completely fully functional, but it will work to a certain extent provided the combinations are simple and small.”

“Combinations?” Jay echoed.

“Precisely. You see, an Alchemy Pot is a device that can turn different items into a new and improved item, most of the time. The result depends on the type and quality of the ingredients you put into it, of course. Let me demonstrate: Jessica, give me your dress.”

“ **WHAT!?** ”

“He means one of your spare dresses, not the dress you’re wearing now” Jay added hastily.

“Yes, yes, of course” Trode nodded. “It does not matter which, so long as it fits you.”

“...What are you going to do with it?”

“I am going to put it into the pot, come along now” Trode said impatiently.

Well, that did not sound too suspicious. “Here” she offered, picking her plain blue wool dress.

“Thank you my dear.” Trode took the dress and held it up to the lantern. “Yes, this will do nicely.” Putting it into the pot, he then turned to Jay. “Now, you have some spare leather shields, correct?”

“Yes, the Navigator allowed us to keep the scale shields, but as Jessica doesn’t have one I thought I’d give one of the leather shields to her.”

“That still leaves us with a spare leather shield, correct? Bring that to me.”

“Certainly Sire, one moment.” Jay got into the wagon and rummaged around. “Here they are. Jessica, stand here a moment.” He compared both the shields, taking her left arm and strapping it to her. “How does that feel?”

“Urgh, it is... a little heavy” she admitted, staggering a little as the weight of the shield tried to pull her over.

“We’ll work on that. Yangus’ shield would definitely be too heavy though, so if you want a shield you can have that one.”

“Excellent, pass the spare to me” Trode ordered, and Jay obediently handed him the shield. Given that the smaller shield was enough to stagger her, Yangus’ larger shield actually knocked Trode over. Jay was clearly horrified and went to help, but Trode quickly picked himself up and pretended that nothing had happened and Jay went along with it, both of them ignoring Yangus’ sniggering. Getting a firmer grip on the shield, Trode lifted the shield up and put it inside-

Wait, did he just put the shield inside the alchemy pot?

“Er, Sire, how did-”

“It is very complicated magic” the ‘king’ told them, cutting Jay off.

“But the shield is bigger than-”

“Magic” Trode said firmly, putting the lid on the pot. Suddenly the pot started bubbling as if it contained boiling water, quivering on the seat of the wagon.

“What... What is happening?” she managed to ask.

“It is as I said – the Alchemy Pot is using magic to turn two items, in this case Yangus’ leather shield and your dress, into a brand-new item. If I remember correctly it should use the shield to turn your dress into leather, producing a set of leather armour for you. However I may be wrong – like most advanced magic artefacts, the Alchemy Pot is rather hard to predict at times, and a lot depends on the enchanter who created it and the various quirks it may have picked up over the centuries.”

“I see.” Actually, she had no idea what he was saying, but what did it matter? At worst she lost a cheap dress, and at best she gained some armour. “Can I put the shield down now?”

Jay thought for a moment. “Not yet. Now, here’s a bronze knife to replace that dinky thing you have.”

“What? What is wrong with my current dagger?”

“It’s a fine blade, but it’s a little too fine – with all the fighting we’ll see it’ll break before too long. You need something a little sturdier. How well do you know how to use it?”

“My brother showed me a few moves.”

“Alright, we can build on that. What about your whip?

“Well, a little, but I mainly use magic.”

“That’s fine, but you need a back-up for when you run out, or if you’re prevented from casting for any reason. I don’t know anything about whips though, so I’m afraid I can’t help you. I don’t have much in the way of headgear for you either, although I do have a spare leather cap...”

“My hairband is enchanted, it provides me with a modicum of protection.”

“That’ll probably be better then – the leather caps aren’t that good, and I’m not sure they’d fit you anyway” Jay nodded, thankfully; she did not want to wear one of those ugly things, no matter what the circumstances. “What about your boots?”

“My boots? What boots?”

“...What boots? You mean you don’t have any? What did you walk here in?”

“These.”

“You wore **those?** Let me see your feet.”

“What? Why?”

“I want to check them.”

“Yes, but why-”

“Just take off your shoes” Jay said impatiently. Who knew the quiet lad so eager to please could be so demanding? She cast a look at Yangus, who simply smirked at her, and Trode, who looked similarly amused. Even the horse seemed to be grinning.

“As I thought” Jay said after she’d taken off her shoes and he’d grasped hold of her feet, to her utmost embarrassment – this felt far too intimate a thing to do with someone who was practically a stranger, particularly with witnesses as the horse’s cough reminded her. “You recently had these healed, didn’t you?”

“What? How do you know?”

“I can still feel the traces of the magic. Did you walk until your feet started bleeding? And then continue walking anyway?”

“Well... I did not have a lot of choice” she said defensively. Jay just sucked in his breath and shook his head.

“We will have to buy you a pair of proper boots when we land. At least there’ll be plenty of cobblers there in port, it just depends how long we have to wait, or how much we have to pay to rush it...”

“It really is not necessary-”

“Oh, it is – if you’re going to fight, your feet are important. You can’t run with your feet badly hurt, and if you can’t run you’re just a sitting target – we’ll get you proper sturdy boots. It may take a little while for you to break them in, but after that you’ll really feel the difference. And you’ll need some medicinal herbs, in case you’re separated and injured, or need a quick fix in battle. Do you know any healing magic?”

“No.”

“Pity, but it’s best to take some medicinal herbs anyway, just in case. I’ll show you how to use them and bandage your wounds if you don’t know. Let me grab some supplies for you...”

“The guv takes fightin’ seriously” Yangus told her knowingly whilst Jay climbed into the wagon to get some supplies. “’e won’t let ya go into battle unprepared.”

“I noticed. He is like a different person.”

“I’m just following the example of my sergeant, more or less; I wasn’t part of the Royal Guard just to fill in the numbers, you know” Jay told them, coming out of the wagon and handing her a pouch of medicinal herbs and bandages. “And they teach this stuff for a reason – it’d be stupid to forget it all just because I left the castle, when it’s at times like these that we need it.”

“I understand, really” she placated. “Now, can I take the shield off?”

“...Put it on the other arm.”

“What?”

“We need to build up your strength a little, and you’ll need practice carrying a shield – since we haven’t much time we might as well do both at once.”

“...Do I have to carry a shield?”

“Only if you want to live” Jay told her, though he smiled to take the sting out of his words. “Seriously, you’ll die without one, and after you’ve worn one for a while you almost forget you have it. Just don’t actually forget, otherwise it’s not much use. I’ll show you how to use it more effectively tomorrow, after we’ve had some sparring practice.”

“Sparring practice?”

“Of course! How else will you learn how to fight?”

She groaned. Just what had she let herself in for?

\-----

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Jessica has finally joined the party! Whoo! Okay, those of you not familiar with the game, who didn't see that coming? Anyone? Well, I hope I did the scene justice. In the game she apologises just before you board the ship (she bows formally, but it's not such a big deal because in the game no-one got hurt in the Tower) and then just casually asks if she can join the group. You don't have an option to say no (or you do, but she just keeps asking until you say yes), and once you agree they board the ship and set sail. You then get a cutscene showing how Yangus first met the party, but I already did that scene in chapter 2 so I'm not going to do it again. And then you arrive in the Eastern Continent, and that's it.
> 
> Naturally, I've chosen to expand on this. First, because Jay's wound was that much more serious (and Jessica knows this) she's that much more guilt-stricken, and the apology is less a formality than something really important to her. I've also made Jessica less self-assured, as this is the first time that she's left the village (the game doesn't tell us otherwise) and that's going to have an impact. She still seems as confident as she does in the game, but it's a front and she's actually feeling quite overwhelmed - not only is she surrounded by strangers but she's going to places completely alien to her normal environment following two deep emotional blows, so it's understandable. It's this that drives her to join the group even after Jay tells her his ridiculous story (the game later shows that none of the party really believe Trode and Medea are royalty), for as Yangus says she's deep in unfamiliar territory and knows it, and that trumps whatever insanity Jay presents her with. Besides, she feels she owes them after all they've done for her, and they're probably the only travellers willing to let her join them anyway.  
> We then go into the sort of preparations travellers take before setting out on their journey (the scene mainly showing just how unprepared Jessica is) as well as finally introducing the alchemy pot (also introduced here in the game) before moving onto the next chapter.
> 
> In regards to the earlier two scenes, Lady Rosalind's backstory is entirely made-up - there's no hint of any of this in the game, I just created it to explain some of the roots of Rosalind and Jessica's arguments. As for why Urana's bringing this stuff up, she's skirting carefully between overstepping her position and sowing doubt into Jessica's mind - she's been disinherited herself and knows how devastating it can be, so she's playing a long game in encouraging Jessica to return home. However she knows Rosalind enough to guess that just outright saying it will drive Jessica away all the more, so she's offering herself as someone who understands and is willing to listen before gently nudging things in the right direction. Had she realised just what was in store for Jessica, she might have pushed harder.
> 
> As for Jay's scene, it once again shows how Jay is a little too dedicated, and how it exasperates his two royal charges. I was going to have Jay describe the battle with Khalamahri, but I figured it was too soon (literally last chapter) and I cut that part of the dialogue. I considered giving Jess the job of describing the battle while Jay constantly interrupted as an opportunity to bond with Trode and Medea, but it followed too soon after Yangus describing how he met Jay, and I figured it would be just more of the same. And then I cut a lot of that too - again, repetition with little to add to the characters or story.
> 
> Admittedly there's a lot of talking here. There's going to be more talking in the next chapter too, which will also been an original chapter. I'm not sorry about that, because I want to use Jessica's culture shock to do a bit of world-building and character development for both Jay and Jessica. Apart from taking the opportunity to show Yangus' take on things, he is a bit static at the moment, more or less just going with the flow, but that in itself was quite a bit of development for someone who used to try to force life to go the way he wanted. But that's another story. Maybe literally, one day - no promises.


	11.  The Long Road Ahead

“Are you sure about this, Lady Jessica?”

She sighed and looked up at the worried face looming over her. “Yes Navigator, I am perfectly certain.” As much as she could be, anyway. But she had to both look and sound confident and not let any trace of her apprehension slip out, otherwise she would never be able to leave.

The Navigator had been worrying like this ever since he had heard of her plans. The captain had been equally concerned, but at least he had kept his thoughts to himself. The Navigator however had been trying to convince her to take a few mercenaries or even a few of his sailors as an escort, but she had turned him down. She could not afford to pay them, could not use her family’s credit as she now **had** no family, and she could not even say how long they would be travelling for, and so could not impose on the Navigator’s generosity even if she had been inclined to do so.

They had been over this many times, yet he still kept trying to persuade her. She was glad she had met Jay and Yangus, otherwise she might have lost her courage and given in, allowing the Navigator to arrange everything on her behalf, which would have been very wrong. “I have every confidence in Jay and Yangus” she added reassuringly.

“Yes, Milady” the Navigator nodded, making noises of agreement without actually agreeing. “It’s just that... It isn’t right, sending you out on your own, without any female companion or someone of your own class.”

“They are of my class now” she reminded him quietly, and the Navigator frowned unhappily. It seemed strange, a big and strong man of his years and experience squirming at her word, but Urana had said that he was a sensitive soul. Ever since he had found out about her situation he had been devastated for her, sometimes moved to tears, and would do anything to help. Which was precisely why she could not allow him to help her.

“Lady Jessica... I know you don’t want us calling you that at the moment, but to me you’ll always be our Lady. It doesn’t matter that you don’t hold that title right now, you will again, I’m certain of it. And I want you to know that until that day comes, my wife and I and all the resources we can muster are at your disposal. All you have to do is say the word, and we will do everything in our power to help you. Do not feel you are alone – rely on us, we are here for you.”

“Thank you” she told him, cupping his face in both hands, partly to show him her sincerity and partly because it was the only way to silence him. “Your words mean a lot to me, truly. However the decision to leave home was mine, and I must pay the price for it. To use you or your resources would be the same as calling on Mother when she made it clear she would not support me – it would only put you into conflict with her. As for my blood feud, it is only right that **I** pay the cost, not another – no-one else can take my vengeance for me. This is something I must do myself.”

“I understand, Lady Jessica” the Navigator sighed at last, finally giving up. “I know the lad you’re travelling with is a good lad. He was a great help in Port Prospect, both before and after the battle as well as his actions during it, and those who’ve met him speak well of him. He even came to me and confirmed there was a Healer aboard before his first training session with you, and he’s been very circumspect throughout the voyage. As for his companion, despite his appearance he seems a good enough sort.

“Still, they’re strangers, and we know very little about them. Not to mention that there’s only two of them, and neither especially skilled. The roads are dangerous enough even for caravans, let alone a small group of travellers, and I worry that it isn’t enough. I understand that you won’t accept my help, but at the very least, please promise me you’ll be careful, and if you need help you’ll let us know.”

“I will” she promised. That much she could do. “Besides, you need not worry. I am not entirely bereft of female companionship.” The Navigator looked at her, and she grinned. “There is the horse, after all.”

“That isn’t what I meant” the Navigator groaned. “There’s something strange about that horse too.”

“Strange? What do you mean?”

“Well the other day I was heading for the privy, only it was locked. Well, nothing unusual about that, so I waited. Only when the door was unlocked, instead of one of the passengers or sailors, out came their horse!”

“What!?”

“Exactly! And there was no-one else in there, so not only did she unbolt the door, but she was the one who bolted it in the first place! She even put the seat back down too!” Which was more than could be said for half the sailors.

“Well, I imagine she did not want to create a mess where she is sleeping” she said lightly.

“Yes, but who toilet-trains a horse?”

The Navigator did not even know the half of it. Medea was not just a well-trained horse, capable of recognising Jay’s daily grooming routine and anticipate his next moves – she anticipated what he needed even when there was no routine, just from the context of the conversation. She did not leave at merely following or understanding a conversation either, she would make her own comments on the group’s conversation or antics. Once she even found herself sharing a weary amused look and an eyeroll, and then she realised Medea had actually laughed. Or whinnied, but it sounded like a laugh.

That was the thing – the way Medea acted, responded, she was almost part of the group. Sometimes she could really seem human. It was those moments when she found herself almost believing Jay’s story, as crazy as it sounded.

The way Jay acted also gave weight to his tale. It was not just his deferential manner towards the supposed king and princess, as he acted deferential towards everyone and such an act could easily be faked. What made it convincing was his difficulty in **not** acting deferential towards them – he had given up calling the Princess anything other than Princess, simply passing it off as the horse’s name. Even that had been a compromise though, as he was clearly more familiar with addressing her as ‘Your Highness’ and King Trode as ‘Your Majesty’ or some other variant, and was constantly correcting himself. The fact that he always referred to King Trode and was struggling not to correct others was much more compelling than simply addressing him by his title.

It was not just Jay either – Trode bristled whenever not referred to by his ‘proper title’. **Every time.** And he too was trying not to let it show and understand why she did not believe him, yet she could see that not being called ‘King Trode’ or addressed by his supposed title really bothered him. And failing to show proper respect to his ‘daughter’, such as talking to her like she would not understand or treating her as a horse, made him livid. His rebukes were perfectly polite, if sharp, but she could see the amount it cost him to stay civil, and she was learning to be careful. Yangus just plunged in regardless, soon provoking an open argument with Trode that they had all learned to ignore.

That was the answer really, just like Yangus had said – it was easier to ignore their story and pay it no mind than try to rationalise or explain it. Just accept their quirks and everything else would move along smoothly enough.

She had to admit, it felt a little strange, being so open with these people. There was no way to avoid it if they were to travel and fight together, but she felt so terribly exposed. Jay did his best to put her at ease in his own way, choosing to simply ignore her heritage and treating her as he would anyone else – politely, but not afraid to speak his mind. Yangus was as blunt as always, less ignoring her former status than not caring in the first place, but acting more familiar rather than rude. In fact, he was a surprisingly open and caring individual, not at all as intimidating as his appearance made him out to be. Trode on the other hand was prickly, at times as friendly as Jay and eager to engage in conversation and at other times surly and rude depending on the mood he was in.

“-ou alright, Lady Jessica?”

“Sorry, I was just thinking” she apologised, suddenly realising the Navigator was speaking to her.

“That’s alright, Lady Jessica, you’ve got a lot to think about; what you’re doing isn’t easy.”

“No, but it needs to be done all the same.”

“I understand, I just wish you didn’t have to do it on your own” the Navigator sighed.

“It is how it is” she said simply. “Thank you for all your help these past two weeks.”

“Not at all Lady Jessica. I only wish I could do more. May the Goddess watch over you on your journey, and keep your path smooth and easy.”

“And may the Lady watch over and protect your household, and repay you for all your kindness twofold” she answered, meaning every word of the Rites.

“You are too kind, most welcome guest. Remember, our doors are always open to you, and should you ever need our aid, you only need to ask and it will be given.”

“You are most generous, Good Host. May the Goddess bring our paths together again under better circumstances.”

The Rites over, she quickly took her leave of the Navigator before he tried to persuade her again and made her way ashore. She paused a moment after she stepped off the ship, taking a moment to reflect on the fact that she was now on a different continent, and different world almost, where she knew no-one, and no-one knew her.

...

She shuddered, then thrust all such thoughts out of her mind. Besides, she was not entirely alone. There was Jay, leading Medea down the gangplank with the wagon. As the first one on, it was only natural he would be the last one off, having to wait until they cleared the rest of the hold before he was able to guide the horse out. She made her way over to join him, but kept her distance so she did not get in the way – she had no desire to be crushed by the wagon if something went wrong.

“Steady now, steady” Jay was saying, helping a couple of dockworkers hold back the wagon as Medea made her way down the gangplank. Listening to him, she was not sure whether he was talking to the dockworkers or the horse. “Nearly there now, just a little more.” Medea snorted, taking the last few careful steps until she reached the solid stone of the harbour wall. “That’s it, gently now.” Medea kept a steady pace, slightly faster than before but by no means quick, until the wagon was safely off the gangplank and on solid ground. The moment the back wheels were off Medea let out a triumphant whinny, and Jay immediately straightened and re-joined the horse.

“Good work, very nicely done” Jay congratulated, patting her on the neck, and she gave another triumphant whinny. “And thank you for all your help” he added, turning to the gathered dockworkers as he fished in his pockets. “Please, allow me to-”

“No need” one of the dockworkers interrupted. “Your Navigator has taken care of everything.”

Jay blinked in surprise, then turned to where the Navigator stood against the ship rail and saluted him in a swift smooth movement, then turned back to the dockworkers again. “Well, in that case allow me to add my thanks to his.”

“It was no trouble at all” the dockworker assured him. “That horse of yours is a gem, we’ve never had such a calm and steady horse as her. And what a beauty!”

“Yes, she is, isn’t she?” Jay grinned proudly as Medea scuffed her hooves on the stones, apparently embarrassed. “May the Goddess watch over you as your story unfolds.”

“And may she keep you safe on your journey” the dockworker replied, surprised but easily able to fall into the familiar routine of the Rites. That was Jay though, equally polite to everyone regardless of their status.

As the dockworkers left to continue work elsewhere Jay turned back to the bashful Medea. “See! You did a good job. I know you were worried about getting the wagon off, seeing it was hard enough getting it on, but you did it perfectly! These last few days can’t been easy for you, sitting below decks all the time without any sunlight, but you coped really well and I just wanted to say how grateful I am.”

Medea snorted, looking away.

“No really, I mean it. How about I get you something special? My treat.”

Medea whickered in surprise, whirling round to face him.

“Yes, money is a little tight right now, but you deserve it. I’m sure your Father would agree.”

Medea snorted.

“Yes, I know he’d spoil you all the time if he could, but my point still stands” Jay said defensively. Medea whickered and gestured in her direction, and Jay suddenly spun round. “La- Jessica!”

“Jess” she corrected, and Jay gave a small apologetic nod of acknowledgment.

“Sorry, I didn’t see you there” he went on.

“No it is fine. I did not want to interrupt” she teased.

“No, it’s fine, we were just waiting for you” Jay replied, the joke seeming to go straight over his head. She supposed one would not be embarrassed talking to a horse when one viewed the horse as a person. “Shall we go?”

“Where are the others?” she asked, looking round.

“Our usual driver went ahead on foot so he wouldn’t have to wait at the docks – you know how he hates crowds – and Yangus went after him, at a distance.”

She nodded her understanding, falling into step beside him as he moved off with the wagon. Trode could very well be lynched if someone saw him close-up and mistook him for a monster, so there was no point increasing his chances of being seen. And if he was spotted on the way Yangus would certainly be able to take care of things before they got out of hand.

She turned and gave the Navigator one last wave before they disappeared out of sight, and was surprised to see at least half the ship’s crew assembled beside him to wave her off. She quickly ducked out of sight as they cheered and pulled up her cloak’s hood, embarrassed and a little irritated by the attention – now everyone would be staring and wondering who she was. Jay just smirked at her, but he nodded to Medea and they picked up the pace, soon leaving the harbour behind.

As they walked through the busy streets, she was rather surprised by how similar it was to Port Prospect. She should not be surprised really, a port is a port after all wherever you go, but somehow she had expected a different continent to be more exotic somehow. She did not know how exactly, but she had thought things would be more... different. As it was Jay was able to guess his way through the town quite easily, cutting through a couple of the backstreets of the harbour to emerge onto the Traders’ Way, following it to the nearest town gate and out into the countryside.

Throughout all this she noticed that although Jay had a hand on Medea’s reins and sometimes her bridle too, he left them slack, never once using them to direct her. And Medea was clearly looking around, turning her head back and forth in much the same way she was doing, as if equally curious about the new town and continent they were in. She really did act like a person, and Jay treated her like one as if it was so natural that she found it hard not to do the same, despite the obvious insanity of it all. But it was like Yangus said – what did it matter?

Once they reached the outskirts of town there was a low whistle, one she almost mistook for some kind of foreign bird had not both Jay and Medea promptly steered off the path and headed into the tree cover. Inevitably she followed, resolutely crushing years of Mother’s warnings about not straying off the path and that monsters that lurked out of sight waiting to ambush their prey. No sooner was the path out of sight than Yangus joined them, appearing so suddenly she jumped – apparently she had not completely shut out Mother’s warnings.

“How did it go?” Jay asked quietly, scanning their surroundings for any sign of monsters or people.

“No worries guv, no-one got near ‘im. It ain’t like some village out in the sticks – there’s so many people movin’ through ‘ere there’re tons o’ strangers; some little fella in a cloak don’t bother no-one. Granddad was able to slip out no probs. The only ‘ard part was tryin’ to find an empty space to wait – there’s a whole bunch o’ people campin’ out ‘ere.”

“Why?” she asked. “Surely if they are this close they can make it into town?”

“Yes, but ports have lots of travellers passing through, so a bed can be expensive, and a stable for a horse even worse” Jay told her. “If you don’t mind sleeping rough and you’re willing to risk the monsters, then it’s a lot cheaper to camp outside the town than find an inn, and that’s assuming there’s a bed free – with the ferry out they probably have as many people waiting here as they did at Port Prospect.”

“We ‘ad to camp outside there too” Yangus added, answering her unvoiced question.

“And we’ll be staying the night out here as well, if Yangus found us a good spot” Jay went on, answering her next question.

“Yeah. It’s a bit o’ an ‘ike, but we won’t ‘ave any interruptions like.”

She followed them as they made their way through the trees, keeping their distance from other travellers’ campsites if they could but not going out of their way to avoid them – like Jay had said, there were plenty of others camping on the outskirts, so they looked no different. If anything, deliberately avoiding them would only draw attention to themselves. Eventually they emerged in the small clearing where Trode was waiting. “Are you alright Sire? No monsters bothered you, did they?”

“No, no, I am quite well, thank you” Trode said impatiently. “What about yourselves? Any trouble?”

“No Sire, the Navigator got us a pass to leave town, and the inspection only took a moment – we have nothing of interest to them anyway.”

“No, I suppose not. And little in the way of funds either” the ‘king’ sighed.

“I think we can make them stretch a little, but a lot depends on how well tomorrow’s shopping goes.”

“Shopping?” she echoed. She thought they already had everything.

“Yes, we need to get supplies, among other things like your boots and a tent.”

Wait just a moment... “A tent? I thought we already had one!”

“Exactly. We have **one**. We’ll need another.”

“What? Why? I have seen your tent, and it certainly seems big enough for-”

“NO!” all three of the others said sharply, even the horse seeming to snort in agreement.

“My dear, this is something we have discussed and agreed upon – you simply must have a tent of your own if you are to travel with us.”

“I do not need special treatment-” she began heatedly, but Trode cut her off.

“It simply would not be right otherwise, regardless as to your heritage or current position in society. Rather than seeing it as favoured treatment because you are a woman, see it as a condition of being able to travel with us. The fact that we are willing to purchase a tent for you despite our difficult financial circumstances should tell you something.” She started to protest, but Trode quelled her with a look and said firmly “Jessica, this is non-negotiable.”

“Even if you’re able to sleep, we won’t be” Jay put in. “Besides, our tent isn’t **that** big.”

She did not like it, but she knew she would not be able to convince them to change their minds, not if even the horse seemed to be against the idea. “Very well” she sighed. At least she would have plenty of room.

“That is settled then” Trode said decisively. “I believe you were making the arrangements lad?”

“Yes Sire” Jay nodded. “Yangus is going to do the groundwork as people are less likely to try and rip him off, and Jessica and I will do some training while we wait. When he gets back he’ll point us in the direction of the best stores and we’ll get Jessica properly outfitted.”

“Wait, **more** training? But we already did some this morning!” she pointed out.

“What, that? That was just a few exercises. We need to get some **proper** practice done – we couldn’t do anything on the ship.” She thought back to the endless exercises Jay had made her do in the evenings and that morning, realised that Jay didn’t even consider that a proper workout and shuddered.

“I’ll leave you to it then, eh guv?” Yangus chuckled.

“Don’t call me that” Jay muttered, turning to unharness Medea.

“’ere, Jess” Yangus beckoned her over. “Don’t worry too much ‘bout it – the guv won’t push ya ‘arder than ya can go. An’ it may seem like a lotta bother now, but you’ll see it pay off real soon like.”

 _“_ **You** found it tough?” That did not exactly reassure her.

“Well, it ain’t like I ever ‘ad formal trainin’ or anythin’, so it were a bit o’ a shock like, but it weren’t any trouble. But I’m used to fightin’, an’ you ain’t, so mebbe it’ll be different.” She grimaced, and he patted her on the back so hard she almost staggered – no wonder Jay always winced. “Don’t worry, the guv’s been thinkin’ ‘ard on ‘ow to train ya properly like, ‘e’ll be gentle on yer.”

“Don’t tell her that!” Jay snapped, hearing the last part. “Now go on, or the shops will shut before you get there!”

“Alright guv, I’m goin’. See ya in a couple o’ ‘ours.”

“And don’t call me that!” Jay called after him. “Honestly, I swear he does it deliberately.”

“Ah, do not worry about it guv” she teased in her best approximation of Yangus’ voice.

“Don’t you start!” He paused. “Right, well then, if you don’t mind...”

She smiled. Jay was still not used to giving orders outside of battle. “Of course not.”

“Before you get started lad, perhaps now would be a good moment to try out Jessica’s current equipment” Trode suggested.

“Ah, good idea Sire. I’ll go get the shield and dagger.”

“Jessica, no doubt you remember that we tried to make some leather armour for you the other day” Trode began. “Well, I cannot say it came out exactly as intended. I do not know what went wrong exactly, I know I used the same ingredients as I did when I created leather armour some years ago, but I ended up with a rather different result.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, look at this.” He held it out to her, and she saw what he meant. It was leather certainly, but it was not exactly what one would consider armour. Or rather, it was a relatively plain dress almost identical to the one she had placed in the Alchemy Pot, but made of leather. “I just do not understand what went wrong. I only put in a plain tunic and a leather shield in last time, but I produced some good quality leather armour. However this time I end up with a mere dress!”

“Maybe that’s it? Last time you used a tunic, and this time you used a dress” Jay suggested.

“I suppose so” Trode muttered. “I just never realised that the Alchemy Pot was so pernickety!”

“Well, it’s a very good quality leather dress – it’ll stand up better than a plain wool one.”

“Almost anything will stand up better than a plain wool dress!” Trode snapped, but then recovered himself. “However you are correct, it is an improvement on what came before, if not entirely the result we hoped for.”

“At least it didn’t turn out like the knife” Jay reminded him, and Trode gave a weary nod of agreement.

“The knife?” she echoed.

“We were looking into getting another weapon for you, but all we had spare was a cheap bronze knife. I thought we might be able to strengthen it with some iron like we did with your dress and the leather shield, so we put some nails in. Unfortunately it... didn’t work out like that.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, instead of a sturdier knife, what we got was a skeleton key.”

“What?”

“You know, a key that’s used to pick locks – a thief’s key.”

“I know what it means! But are you telling me you have made a thief’s key!?”

“Well... yes, but don’t go shouting it around or anything. It’s not exactly something to be proud of.”

“In any case, please try on the dress, Jessica” Trode asked her. “As it was your dress that went in I cannot imagine that it will not fit, but I would like to be certain.”

“Certainly.” She took the dress from him and went behind the wagon to change. As she went she noticed Jay suddenly busying himself with Medea, even though he had already gone through a thorough inspection as he unharnessed her, Trode going to join him. Medea caught her looking and rolled her eyes and sighed dramatically, making her stifle a giggle – horse or not, she certainly had a sense of humour.

Confident that the two men were far too courteous to peek, and that Medea would warn them if she sensed anyone approaching, she quickly stripped down to her underclothes and started pulling the new armour on. Despite coming into contact with leather every day, it felt strange on her skin, hard and firm and yet soft and flexible at the same time, and that did not even make sense. It was certainly firmer than her wool travelling clothes and admittedly it was a little stiff, but not so stiff that she could not move. And while it felt rough it was not nearly as scratchy as her wool clothes and much sturdier, certainly better able to protect her in battle. It was a shame it lacked colouring, just the plain brown of natural leather, but she had never cared for fashion no matter what her mother said, and it would only get dirty anyway.

“How is it?” Jay called making her jump.

“It is a little big” she admitted, walking over to join them.

“There are a few straps on the back” Jay called, he and Trode still most definitely not looking, and would probably continue to look away until they were told it was ‘safe’ to look back.

She felt around and found the straps, tying them as she would a corset until it was tight around her. She flexed a little to test she had not tied it _too_ tight, as it was not meant to function as a corset and Jay kept stressing the importance of quick movement in battle, and then nodded to herself. “Alright, what do you think?”

Jay finally turned around to look. “Looks good” he nodded, looking the armour up and down. “How does it feel?”

“A little strange – slightly rough and coarse compared to what I am used to.”

“I am afraid there is no avoiding that” Trode told her wryly. “Too comfortable and it is unlikely to be good as armour, but too uncomfortable and hampers one’s ability to fight – it is an age-old challenge trying to get the right balance.”

“I know, I was simply saying it feels a little strange – it is not a problem.”

“It may be a little stiff at the moment because it’s new – it might soften up a bit once you’ve worn it a little” Jay told her. “It’s a pity it doesn’t cover your lower arms at all, but my armour didn’t either. If we can I’ll see if we can find you some gauntlets.”

“Although Jessica is primarily a mage, so she will want to keep her hands free” Trode reminded him. “Leather armour is fine, but some of the stouter armour may get in the way of her casting, and that is without getting into issues of strength and stature.”

“Right, I forgot. And it’s not like she doesn’t have a shield.” He handed it to her, and she strapped it into place. “Yes, that’s looking pretty good. A lot less vulnerable for starters, should take the worst of the attacks. Won’t last against a strong attack mind, but it’s a lot better than nothing.”

“My legs feel a little exposed” she mentioned, looking down at her legs, which, bar her stockings, were left bare below the knees. She had never exposed so much skin in public before...

“Your boots will go some way to fixing that” Jay told her.

“And if the skirt were any longer it would restrict your movement” Trode added. “Another one of those trade-offs unfortunately.”

“Besides, I’m not sure we had enough leather to cover the whole dress” Jay finished. “Assuming the Alchemy Pot works that way, that is…”

“Well, can I take it off now?”

“No, while we’re outside you need to wear it at all times – we don’t know when monsters might attack, and if they do you won’t have enough time to put it back on, and a good piece of armour can make all the difference” Jay said firmly, and she recognised the tone well enough to know that this was one of the areas he would not compromise on. If it had anything to do with her safety, or the safety of any of the others, they either did what he said or he would quite simply refuse to go any further, and without his co-operation everything would grind to a halt. And yet from what Yangus had told her he was quite careless of his own safety when it came to helping others, the hypocrite.

“Fine, fine, I understand” she said placatingly.

“Good. Now, let’s start with our exercises, if you don’t mind. Princess, if you could let us know when we’ve done a hundred laps of the wagon.”

She groaned – it was going to be a long couple of hours.

“Right, that’s a hundred” Jay announced as Medea gave a loud whinny. “That wasn’t so bad, right?”

If she had the strength, she would have throttled him – not only was she utterly exhausted, she was dizzy as well. Worse, Jay was only slightly out of breath and was barely sweating, further deepening her humiliation. The only crumb of comfort was that Jay wasn’t looking at her, as if pretending not to notice how exhausted she was. Actually there was no ‘as if’ about it – he **was** pretending not to notice.

“Here” Trode offered her a small cup of milk, which she drank eagerly, and a cloth which she used to wipe the sweat from her face. “Do not think too badly of yourself. The lad may not be skilled, but he has great stamina, and has been running twice this distance since we started our journey – you will be able to keep up with him in time.”

She nodded, handing the cloth back and straightening. Taking that as the signal, Jay turned to her and said “Right, now let’s move onto our exercises, if that’s okay.”

“If you mean to emulate your sergeant’s example you could do without those little extras” Trode pointed out, sounding amused.

“Just because we’re training doesn’t mean we should be rude” Jay said defensively.

“Goddess forbid” Trode said dryly as Medea gave an amused snort.

“Well then, we’ll start without the weapons and then move onto our sword exercises after, if that’s alright with you.”

“Yes” she agreed wearily, catching Medea’s eye and shaking her head. Could horses snigger? She could swear Medea just did.

“Now we may not be on a ship anymore, but it’s still important to keep your feet apart all the same, so that you’re ready for an attack from any direction. When the monsters attack you need-

“-you need to stay on your feet, otherwise it is all over” she finished. “I know, I know, you said so before, several times.”

“Well... it’s important; I wouldn’t say it if it wasn’t. Now, practice taking a step forward and blocking with your shield, then thrusting forward with your sword arm and turning round, just like we practiced. I’ll do it with you.”

“How long do we do this for?” she asked, fearing she already knew the answer.

“Until I say so” came the response, the same as it had every time before. She sighed, but settled into the routine as he did the same beside her, his scale armour clinking with his movements.

She had to admit, she could see why he had told her to practice with her armour – it did make a difference. Her first few practices were clumsy and awkward as she adjusted to the armour’s added weight, and once she adjusted for that there was still the added resistance to get used to. The armour made everything just a little bit harder, nothing that could not be overcome but harder nonetheless, and it was good to find that out now rather than in the middle of a battle when it could save her life. Still, she did not see why she had to repeat the same exercises for what felt like quarter of an hour, but could have been longer.

“You know, when I first started training at Trodain I wondered why we wasted so much time on exercises like this, when we could go out and practice on nearby monsters or practice sparring with each other” Jay told her when she stopped to catch her breath. “I thought there must be something else we could be doing, some other kind of way of learning that didn’t involve so much repetition.”

“Yes?”

“Only when I first started this journey, we were ambushed by monsters not long after we set out, and while I was still panicking, thinking ‘what do I do, what do I do?’, my body reacted and before I knew it I’d already fought them off. So it’s important to know these exercises so well that you can do them instinctively, because one day it might save your life. Particularly at night, when you don’t see them coming until the last minute. Now then, shall we go on?”

There was not much else she could say to that but nod. Even if he kept her at it until her muscles ached. And then all he did was move onto different sets of exercises, one set simply changing the sword thrust to pretending to throw a fireball, another set practicing kicking instead, while a third set was simply backing away to give her space. And then when she had done those sets he had her practicing blocking attacks from different angles, over and over again. At least he practiced them alongside her, and was looking tired and as bored of it as she was.

“Okay, let’s take a quick break” he said at last, and she sighed with relief. Sinking to the floor, she leaned against the wheel of the wagon and gratefully accepted another drink and a cloth from Trode. She was exhausted – she did not think she had ever worked quite so hard in her entire life.

“It won’t always be like this.” She looked up, startled, to see Jay standing nearby but not quite looking at her, shifting his feet awkwardly.

“Excuse me?”

“It’s just that, you’ve had so little training, proper training that is, and we’ve got so much ground to cover. Most days we’ll be travelling pretty far, so there won’t be time to spend so long training like this, so we’ve got to go for it while we can. Apart from tomorrow, we probably won’t get another chance like this for a while. So if we don’t do everything we can now, we might regret it later.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, there’s three of us, and that’s better than two, but it’s not a lot, and a monster could easily corner you if Yangus and I are held up somehow. And most monsters aren’t stupid, they’ll often target the most vulnerable fighter in a group whether they’re injured or inexperienced, and right now that’s you. So you’ve got to learn to at least be able to hold them off until we can reach you, otherwise...”

“Jay, I appreciate your concern, but I did travel on my own for a week, remember? I can take care of myself.”

“I know, I know, but it’s slightly different from then.”

“How?”

“For one, nearly everyone I’ve spoken to says that the monsters are tougher around here than in Trodain. For another, we can’t run from battle if things go badly.”

“What? How come?”

“It’s the wagon – if we run, monsters will just target the wagon, specifically the Princess, and she won’t be able to escape. If we start fighting, we have to stay to the bitter end unless the Princess gets a head start. But of course, if she gets too far monsters could cut her off and then we’re back where we started.”

“Is Medea’s safety not an issue anyway?”

“Surprisingly, no – monsters attack us first as we’re the ones who can hurt them, probably because they know they can take their time with horses once they’ve dealt with the humans. A horse that tries to run from battle is fair game though, sometimes to monsters who weren’t originally fighting either.”

“So as they will not attack Medea first, I am the weak link?”

“No, that’s not what I’m saying! I’m saying when monsters attack, they’ll target you first, and we need to be ready for that! After a week’s travel under your belt we should be in the clear, but until then I want to do everything I can to ensure that you last that week without a major injury or-”

“I appreciate your concern, but you forget I have my magic – I can look after myself. In fact, **I** will probably be looking after **you**.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt it. But it’s not any individual battle I’m worried about – it’s the twentieth, thirtieth and fortieth battles I’m worried about, when you’re out of magic and we’re all tired and slow – that’s when you need to have the basics drilled in so deep that you can still fight even when half-conscious.”

“...Do you really think we’ll fight forty battles in one day?” she whispered.

“It’s happened” Jay sighed. “We’re a small group, so we’re a tempting target, and we’ve been travelling in remote areas a lot of the time, so there’s more monsters about and less humans to scare them off. So far none of the monsters have been all that tough so we’ve been able to get by, but some days the fighting mounts up and begins to wear you down. I’ve had a couple of close calls, but Yangus has managed to bail me out – if I can, I’d like to be sure the same thing doesn’t happen to you.”

“...Okay, point taken.”

“Good. Well then, to finish off with, do you want a quick spar?”

She perked up. “Spar? With you?”

Jay shrugged. “Short of actual combat, I find it the best way to learn; it’s a lot more fun than exercises.”

“You can say that again!” she said, getting up and stretching.

“Short of actual-”

“No, there is no need- Never mind, what are the rules?”

“Given that you’re just starting out, how about you try and get past my defence this time? I need the practice, and it’ll help you too.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes – that knife won’t be able to get past my armour, so as long as you don’t go for the throat I should be okay.”

“Very well then.” And if she could get past his defence often enough, perhaps he would stop worrying and ease up in their practices.

Walking over to a bigger space, they took position facing each other two strides apart. She drew her dagger, and he drew his sword. He had a significantly longer reach than her, not just because of his sword but his arms were longer too, not to mention his advantage in strength as well. She would have to be quick, catch him by surprise.

“Okay, so if you would-”

She leapt forward and attacked, thrusting her dagger at him. Jay instantly countered with his shield, pushing the knife to one side. Then he took a step forward, pushing her back with the shield and knocking her to the floor. “-do something like that, I’ll try and block it” Jay finished. “Full marks for initiative, but don’t forget your base or you’ll end up on the floor.”

“Right” she groaned, getting back up and taking position again. Then she struck.

Jay blocked.

She struck again.

Jay blocked again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

When he moved to block her strike before she had even started her attack she had finally had enough. “How are you doing that?” she demanded. “I have tried every angle, every way I can, and you have been blocking them all!”

“Sorry” Jay grinned, looking slightly abashed but not all that upset. “It’s just you’ve fallen for a classic beginners’ mistake, one that I’m struggling with myself: every time you go to attack, you focus all your attention on where you’re attacking – you face it square on, your feet step towards it, your eyes fix on it – it’s easy to see what you’re aiming for, and you’re not yet fast enough to hit it anyway.”

She tried to avoid grinding her teeth. “And when were you going to tell me this?”

“When you asked. I was kind of using the training to hammer home to **me** as well as you how important it is to overcome this.”

“Is that so?” Then struck again – at least this time Jay was only just able to parry. Pressing home her advantage, she struck with a flurry blows that drove him back, moving so close inside his reach that he struggled to twist his sword far enough to attack. Finally she broke past his defence, blocking his sword with her shield and slipping her dagger past his sword until she-

Jay twisted his body, moving so her knife glanced off his armour, and bashed her with his shield, knocking her to the floor painfully. “That’s more like it” Jay panted. “Attack monsters with that kind of ferocity and you should be able to frighten them off.”

“Right” she groaned as he helped her up. At least she had finally managed to touch him.

“Honestly, most monsters don’t think all that much about defence, so if you manage to get past me you should find them much easier to deal with. The problem is that they take so much longer to die, but I’m not so keen on practicing that one.”

“Shame.”

“I know, I know, I’m sorry.”

“...So, how long were you planning on continuing this?”

“Well, as long as you were willing to go on for.”

Well, on the one hand she was exhausted. She did not know how long they had been training, but it had to be coming up to an hour now, and that was more than enough for her. Furthermore she was planning to use her magic more than her dagger, and her whip if her magic failed her – she did not need such extensive practice of hand-to-hand combat. In desperate need she knew she could rely on Jay and Yangus – she had seen them fight Khalamahri and knew their ability was greater than Jay would have her believe. She had no reason to continue further than Jay would push her.

On the other hand, she still had not managed to land a proper blow on him.

She launched an attack in answer, and Jay swiftly blocked it – he did not expect her shield to crash into his though, pushing him back a step, and he did not expect the knife to come at him the moment he pushed back. His instincts were good though – he stepped sideways, twisting his shield so hers slid over it and tripped her as she staggered forwards.

“I take it you’d like to continue then.” He was not smirking, but she would love to wipe the smirk from his voice if she could not wipe it from his face.

“Yes” she confirmed, slamming her shield into his legs and knocking him to the floor. “Let’s.”

A boot to the face answered her, and that was the last either of them spoke – words were only a distraction from the fight.

Then she finally got him. She had been trying feints without success, so she pretended to feint and then followed through with the original strike. That was not enough to break past Jay’s solid defence, but thanks to that she caught him on the back foot, and as he shifted his balance she pushed forward with her shield. She was not strong enough to push him over, but she made him stagger, and as he regained his balance she blocked his sword with her shield at the same time as she slipped her dagger across his shield and struck him square on the chest. Well, shoulder. But it was enough.

“I claim victory!” she crowed.

“Very well-done Jessica” Trode declared, clapping from where he watched on the wagon. “That was most impressive work indeed. I think we can put some of Jay’s fears to rest now, agreed?”

“Some of them perhaps” Jay replied, sounding irritatingly unconvinced. “We’ll see once she’s got a week’s travel under her belt.”

“It appears you will have to work harder if you are to impress Jay, my dear” Trode laughed fondly. “I believe we may have mentioned before, but he takes his duties seriously.”

“But of course, Sire” Jay replied smoothly, bowing slightly. He was never as comfortable as he was when falling into his role as a servant. She could not recall any of her servants acting so familiarly however, or being quite so at ease in her presence. Did that make his story more likely, or less?

“I am certain I can convince him that I know what I am doing. Still, I will admit he has taught me a few things today.”

“Oh, and what are they?”

“Taunting during battle is a bad idea.”

Hearing Medea then, nothing would persuade her that horses could not laugh.

“Indeed? That probably is the most important lesson you could learn today” Trode replied in all seriousness. “And you lad? What did you learn from today’s training?”

“That Jessica is a sore loser.”

“Hey! I won fair and square!”

“And quit straight after” Jay said pointedly. “Anyone can get lucky once – you need to win more times than that to claim victory.”

“So what if I was lucky? A win is a win and a loss is a loss. It sounds to me as if you are the one who is a sore loser!” she retorted, jabbing her dagger at him.

In a flash of movement Jay slammed his shield against her hand, knocking her knife from her grasp, and suddenly his sword was at her throat. “You may have a point” he said casually, and this time he was definitely smirking. And there was no doubt in her mind now – Medea could definitely laugh, and was laughing loudly.

She would make him pay for that tomorrow.

\-----

“Morning” she greeted once she had finished the Rites of Cleansing, letting out a loud yawn before making her way over to where Jay sat by the fire.

“Morning Jessica. You’re up early.”

“Not as early as you.”

Jay shrugged. “I’ve been used to rising early for years – taking last watch makes sense to me.”

“Last watch?”

“Yeah, you know – relieving the last man before dawn, so that you’re-”

“I know what it means – what I am asking is why were you standing watch? And more to the point, why was I not told anything about it?”

Jay blinked at her in surprise. “Well of course we need a watch – we’re camped outside. Not having a watch is just asking to get jumped by monsters and eaten in our sleep. And even if breaking into our tents will give us a bit of warning, the Princess doesn’t have that luxury – if no-one’s on watch monsters could kill her before she even wakes up. We have to have someone and watch so that doesn’t happen.”

“And why was I not told of this?”

“Well, I didn’t think it needed saying.”

“So I realise, but what I am asking is – why was I not told of when I should have my turn at watch?”

“Oh, you’re not on watch duty yet.”

“What?”

“I’ve not passed you yet, so you can’t go on watch duty. It’s as simple as that.”

“So you are saying I am not ready?”

“Exactly. This is your first time out – putting you on watch duty would be unreasonable. You need more experience before you can sit on watch.”

“So I **will** be placed on watch duty, but not yet.”

“That’s right.”

“And when will I be placed on watch duty?”

“When King Trode says you’re ready.”

“Which will only happen when you pass me?”

“That’s right.”

She sighed. After yesterday she knew that Jay would not budge on this – even managing to land a blow on him had not been enough to convince him, and he seemed settled on a trial period of a week before he would allow her any real duties. It was frustrating, but at least he was not treating her any differently because of her former heritage, her gender or her youth. He had even put Yangus through a training regime after all, and was just as hard on himself if not harder. Still, being told she was not ready was simply infuriating.

“And why do you not think I am ready?”

“You’re not used to staying up long hours in the middle of the night, you haven’t got a lot of fighting experience, you’re not used to fighting on your own, you don’t know what to look out for-”

“And you do!?”

“I went on training expeditions with the other trainees, and we went over all this stuff then. By rights we should have three people on watch at all times, but... until now it’s only been me and Yangus, so we’ve been doing it on our own in shifts. The first few days were tough, but you get used to it surprisingly quickly.”

“The two of you do it in shifts?”

“Yes – I do a shift in the early evening while Yangus gets a quick rest, then Yangus relieves me after a couple of hours and I sleep until early morning, then I relieve Yangus and he sleeps until dawn. Yangus covers the small hours shift because he’s more used to ‘working’ those hours, and I’m already used to late nights and early mornings, so I cover those.”

“...Are you not tired? You travel and fight all day, not to mention those training sessions!”

“We get by. It’s not like we train quite so much when we’re travelling, and like I said, we’re used to long hours. ...Still, I have to admit I look forward to when you join us for watch duty.”

She could imagine. “Does not Trode assist with the watches?”

“Of course not! Some nights if he’s feeling restless he might join us for an hour or two, but to include him would be-”

“Yes, yes, it would be most improper, I understand.” Though she suspected that Trode’s ‘restlessness’ might be his own covert way of providing assistance – not that he would ever admit it. “...Are you making breakfast?”

“Uh-huh. I might as well make myself useful while sitting out here, before everyone wakes up. Just don’t expect too much – cooking isn’t my strong point.”

“Probably better than anything I could come up with. I may be handy with fire, but I know there is a lot more to cooking than that.”

“Well, yes. The main thing is to serve it with a smile though” he grinned.

“...You are joking, right?”

“Morning guv!”

“Don’t call me that!”

“What happened to service with a smile?” she teased, laughing at Jay’s irritable expression.

“I’m not serving the food yet.”

“’ow much longer do you reckon then?”

Jay prodded the stew thoughtfully with his spoon. “...Close enough. Bowls please.” Yangus quickly fetched the bowls, and without further ceremony Jay ladled the stew into them equally and passed them round, both he and Yangus quickly tucking into their shares.

“Are we not going to wait for Trode?” she asked.

“His Majesty will be joining us later” Jay answered.

“‘e never gets up wiv the rest o’ us – e’ll only join us once all the work’s done” Yangus added.

“Well it’s not like he could help” Jay pointed out, and Yangus snorted and nodded. Jay seemed satisfied, but she suspected what he meant and what Yangus had heard were rather different.

“It’s getting cold” Jay prompted, and she quickly helped herself to the stew. Jay was right, it was hardly awe-inspiring, but then neither had the food she had eaten on the road to Port Prospect – it was just another thing she would have to get used to. “How is it?”

“It is fine” she assured him, but it clearly was not enough, for Jay grimaced at her words.

“Sorry I can’t provide anything better. I did work in the kitchens for a while, but I only ever cleaned and prepared the ingredients, I never had anything to do with the cooking. I was too young at the time, and then I was transferred. I was happy at the time, but I regret it a bit now.”

“Oh, no, this is fine, really” she insisted hastily, but before she could reassure him any further a thought distracted her. “The kitchens? I thought you said you were part of the Royal Honour Guard?”

“Oh I am, but before then I used to be a servant, and before that I used to work in the castle kitchens.”

Wait... “You were promoted to the Royal Honour Guard, the most prestigious and elite group in the Trodain Royal Guard, from the **palace kitchens**?”

“...My promotion to the Royal Guard was somewhat unexpected.” Somehow, that explained a lot. Whoever promoted him had a lot to answer for. “You see, it all started back during the plague. Uh, do you remember the plague? I was only eight at the time, so I’d understand if-”

“I am not that young!” she interrupted indignantly. “I mean, I may not remember it personally, but you are referring to the Queens’ Plague, are you not? It was only six or so years ago since it first swept through Trodain, and it was last seen in the Eastern Continent only a year ago.”

“You know a lot about it.”

“Our family built itself on sea trade, and Mother and the Navigator correspond regularly, so we always hear about which diseases are abroad and where, if only to avoid them.”

“Well you may remember that Trodain was hit pretty bad – we lost a lot of our staff and I was made a servant to fill the gaps. When the plague finally died down I’d been doing it for a few months without any problems, so I was kept on.”

“And how did that result in your transfer to the Trodain Royal Guard?”

“Well, that’s the thing – I don’t know. Apparently I had a sponsor, but I don’t know who they are, and my Sergeant didn’t either. Still, I’m grateful to them though, as without them I’d never-”

“Good morning everyone” came a voice suddenly, startling them.

“Good morning Sire” Jay greeted, quickly scrambling to his feet. “Would you like breakfast?”

“Certainly” Trode agreed, taking a seat on the log around the fire. Jay passed him a bowl of the stew, then glanced at Yangus. Yangus sighed, but obediently put his breakfast to one side and rose to pack away the tent. At the same time Jay put his own breakfast aside and picked up a plate of leaves and vegetables, which he held up as the horse ambled up and started eating from it. He glanced at her pointedly, and she abruptly realised that Trode was deliberately not looking her way and so she turned to look at something else. “Are we all prepared for the day? What is our itinerary?”

“Well Sire, Yangus asked around yesterday and he didn’t manage to find any leads on Dhoulmagus. We thought we’d try again this evening in case anyone brings us news, but if not then we’d head east and see what we can pick up.”

“More aimless searching then” Trode sighed. “Very well, it cannot be helped – considering he walked across the sea he could have landed anywhere along the coast with no-one any the wiser. We cannot hope for information of Dhoulmagus to simply drop into our laps, so we will have to go in search of it. No matter how slim our chances appear, provided we are persistent we will chase the villain down in the end – we have to.”

“Yes Sire.”

“What are your plans for the day then?”

“Well, Yangus found a tent-maker last night but he’d shut for the day, so we’ll visit him this morning and see if anything he has in stock is suitable, and we’ll pick up some more supplies while we’re at it. We’ll also have a look at what’s on offer for armour and weapons, but I doubt we’ll be able to afford anything at the moment. First though we’re going to see a cobbler Yangus found about getting Jessica some travel boots.”

“Very good. I will stay here unless we are compelled to move, in which case expect us to be in the surrounding area.”

“Yangus was looking for information last night?” she asked, and Jay nodded.

“Yes, asking round the local pubs and so on – some of the sailors from our ship said they’d help if they found anything, but although he stayed until the gates were about to close Yangus wasn’t able to find anything. And to be honest, I’m not expecting much tonight either – if Dhoulmagus had arrived here walking on water, everyone would be talking about it.”

As eager as she was to get on with the chase, she knew Jay’s reasoning to be sound – they could not rush after Dhoulmagus if they did not know where to go, and as Dhoulmagus had not come by ship the chances of witnesses were that much slimmer. First they would have to search the coast in case anyone had sighted him, and if they still had no word of him they would have to methodically search all of the vast Eastern Continent, and the Lady knew how long that would take. Still, it was as Trode said, they had no choice.

“When do we leave for town?” she asked instead.

“As soon as possible, ideally. Once we’ve cleared the breakfast things and I’ve groomed the Princess I suppose. Speaking of which, would you like anymore Sire?”

“No thank you lad, this is more than sufficient” Trode assured him, tucking into the stew with relish. She thought he was overdoing it.

“Very good Sire. Jessica?”

“Oh, no, thank you, I am quite full” she replied, and she was not lying either – Jay served hefty portion sizes.

Jay shrugged, but once Medea finished her plate he divided the remainder of the stew between himself and Yangus. Neither of them started eating again until Trode had finished like all good retainers, though Yangus rolled his eyes and grumbled. She wondered how long it would be before she ended up doing the same. She doubted Jay, already over-conscious of his position, would start eating with the supposed king unless otherwise invited, and Yangus would eat with Jay, so...

“Say, Yangus, what is that you are wearing?”

“Good, ain’t it?” Yangus grinned, taking off his new hat and showing it to her, a strange sort of dark yellow helmet of a round design with a sudden spike at its centre. “The guv made it for me.”

“I was trying to make a metal helmet with nails” Jay said, as if needing to explain himself. “Unfortunately, like your armour and knife, it didn’t come out how we expected.”

“So I see. Where did you get the nails from?”

“Oh, I, er, pried them from the wagon. On an unrelated note, don’t sit near the left-hand corner in the front for a while.”

“You are telling me this **after** I spend a night in it?”

“Well I blocked off that corner with the alchemy pot and our supplies, so I didn’t think I needed to. Honestly, I don’t know why the alchemy pot turned a leather hat and a set of nails into that, but no sense letting it go to waste. Yangus seems to like it though, and I think it’s an improvement on the spiky green thing he had before.”

He had a point there, though she was unsure whether he was referring to its properties for defence or its general ugly appearance. She then caught his look and realised he meant both, though refrained from saying as much. Yangus was either blithely unaware or, more likely, unbothered by Jay’s comment. “It makes me look all proper and respected like” Yangus told her.

“It’s an improvement” Jay repeated, a slightly playful tone entering his voice even as Yangus gave him a light punch that almost knocked him off his log. “Still, if it helps with the bartering then I’m glad.”

“It does. People ain’t afraid o’ a guy wiv a funny lookin’ ‘at on ‘is ‘ead – they just think I’m foreign or summink.”

“It’s not **that** funny looking – I’ve got to wear the leather one still, remember?”

“Yeah, they ain’t ‘xactly fancy neither” Yangus agreed. “I might as well wear me own ‘at for all the good them one’s do, eh?”

“I guess.” Jay paused. “Jessica, would you mind trying on a leather helmet for me?”

“What? I thought we agreed I didn’t need one with my enchanted hairband.”

“Just... humour me for a second.”

“...Very well” she sighed, waiting obediently while Jay got up and fetched one from the wagon.

“This is actually mine, since we used the spare to create Yangus’ stylish new headwear, but you can borrow it for now.”

“I assure you, I will not be taking it.”

“Yes, well... If you just let me make a few adjustments... and... there!” Jay took a few steps back and looked her up and down. “If I give you your shield and dagger as well...”

“What is it?” she said impatiently, taking her things from Jay and strapping them on.

“It’s... Well... What do you think Yangus?”

Yangus walked over and looked her up and down, then shared a look with Jay and looked her over once more. “Yeah, I reckon it could ‘elp.”

“Sire?”

Now Trode walked up to take a look, and nodded thoughtfully. “Yes lad, I see where you are going with this, and I approve – this should facilitate your acquisition of the necessary supplies for-”

“Would someone mind explaining to me what is going on?” she demanded.

“Sorry Jessica, it’s just that... Yangus and I were talking the other day, about how to go about getting what we need quickly, but cheaply. And one of the problems is that, well...”

“Is **what**?”

“It’s because you’re a Helm, and-”

Not this again. “I told you, that does not matter anymore.”

“You say that, but others sure won’t” Yangus snorted.

“What?”

“It’s because of the Duck principle-” Jay began.

“The **what** principle?”

“The Duck Principle. Yangus came up with the name, but what it means is-”

“If it looks like a duck, sounds like a duck, ‘n’ acts like a duck, it’s a duck” Yangus interrupted, providing his own explanation.

“...What?”

“Basically, you look like a Helm, sound like a Helm, and you act like a Helm, which means that everyone who meets you will think you are a Helm” Trode explained, translating for her.

“What? How do I look like a Helm!? Does this leather dress look like what a Helm would wear?”

“Actually, Helms are often known for disguising themselves on their travels to see the world; to see a Helm ‘dressed down’ isn’t that unusual” Jay told her.

“I did so myself, as did the majority of my ancestors – there is no better way to understand your people than to mix with them” Trode added, and she thought back to what Urana told her about her own father.

“And although your dresses are plain and made of wool, the quality is finer than anything ordinary people can afford. Not to mention your hair is far cleaner and better maintained, your skin doesn’t have any scars and your hands don’t have any calluses – it’s obvious you’ve had a sheltered upbringing” Jay explained apologetically. “The tight leather dress is more unusual though, and if you wear that leather hat it covers your hair – that should throw people off.”

She looked down at herself. “I suppose... But what do you mean that I sound like a Helm?”

“Well... you speak Formal Empyrean – only Helms speak Formal outside the Rites or official ceremonies, the rest of us speak Common Empyrean.”

“What? But I am not... I mean, I always speak this way! It is not that different to your speech!”

“Yeah, but the guv speaks like that ‘cos ‘e’s bin in service like – people can tell the difference from someone who’s bin trained ‘n’ someone who’s bin talkin’ Formal since birth” Yangus told her, and Jay shrugged and nodded.

“Well I... I... It is not that obvious, is it?”

“I am afraid so my dear” Trode said gently. “One can tell at a glance from your excellent posture and deportment. Which in many ways is a good thing, a reflection of your proper upbringing. Unfortunately, it does rather give you away the supposed secret of your heritage.”

“Well, fine, they can think what they like! What does it matter?”

“Well, you see, it matters because of the ‘Helm tax’” Jay told her.

“The Helm tax? I have never heard of that before.”

“Well, it’s not an official tax...”

“Wait, are you saying that people charge Helms extra simply because they are Helms? But... why? They are their liege lords and superiors, the ones they look to for protection – surely they would not risk bringing down their displeasure on themselves?”

“It ain’t like that” Yangus scoffed. “It’s just that ‘elms ‘ave the coin see, so they can afford to pay a little bit extra. It ain’t much for ‘em, just ten or fifty coins dependin’ on wot it is, mebbe more if it’s summink pricey. If the ‘elm ain’t ‘appy, they can let ‘em ‘aggle ‘til it’s closer to the right price. The ‘elm gets wot they want, an’ the ordinary bloke gets a little bit more that the ‘elm won’t miss – everyone’s ‘appy.”

“Like I say, it’s not exactly official, but everyone does it” Jay added. “Everyone takes what they can get away with, and most Helms know about it. So long as someone doesn’t get stupid and try to overcharge too much, no-one really minds. The problem is that although you’re not a Helm now, people are still going to try and charge you Helm prices, and we haven’t any income to rely on.”

“So, what are we going to do?”

“Well... what you’re wearing now means you don’t look like a Helm, so if you leave the negotiating to me and Yangus and don’t say anything, we should get away with it.”

“Very well” she sighed. She could not believe there was so much she did not know.

“Right, well that’s settled then” Jay said hastily, sounding relieved – he probably had not thought that she would agree to remaining silent. “I’ll just clean the breakfast things, and then I’ll-”

“Why don’t **I** clean the breakfast things? You want to groom Medea, correct?”

“Well, yes, okay then” Jay agreed, leaving her to it – she could be trusted with **something** after all. As he started with Medea’s daily grooming, she took their empty bowls and spoons and pot to the stream where she had performed the Cleansing Rites and scrubbed them clean with their brush. Then, once satisfied that they were clean, she started to return to the camp to finish the process with the fire, but when she reached it she paused. Why use the fire, when she had her own magic? True, she would have to be careful not to overwhelm the enchantments and actually set the bowls on fire, but there would be a lot less risk of accidentally burning herself. She quickly cast a quick fire spell over the pot, and once she had a feel for the right strength of the spell she cast it on the rest of the breakfast things.

“Excellent, we’re all ready to go then” Jay said, seeing her finish. “We’ll be back later Your Majesty, probably around lunch time.”

“I will await your return here then” Trode replied.

The three of them left Trode and Medea behind, making their way through the forest back towards town. It didn’t take them long to get back to the town gates, and thanks to the early hour they were passed through the inspection very quickly. Not that they had much to be inspected in first place. Following Yangus down the Traders’ Way to the cobbler he had selected, she finally decided to give voice to what she had been thinking about ever since she left the camp. “Jay?”

“Yes?”

“Have you ever been tested for magic? Non-healing magic, that is?”

“Well, I learned the basics in the Royal Honour Guard, but I was never taught any spells. Why?”

“Well I was thinking... You can cast healing spells, so you clearly have the ability to use magic, so it would not be much of a stretch to teach some of the other schools of magic.”

“Well, that’s true enough.”

“So I was wondering... If you are going to teach me how to fight hand-to-hand, perhaps I could teach you a few spells to use? If nothing else, you would be able to light fires much more quickly.”

“That... sounds like a good idea. Thank you, Jessica.”

“Jess.”

“Right.”

“’ere we are” Yangus said a little while later. “This is the place.”

“A little off the beaten track” Jay commented.

“That’s why the prices are cheaper, ‘e don’t ‘ave to pay as much rent, an’ ‘e needs the customers. But don’t worry, the quality’s just as good as the big ‘uns on the Traders’ Way – I asked around.”

“I’m sure you did. Question is, how do we go about this? Did you mention to him that we might be coming?”

“Yep.”

“Well I suppose we’ll start there then. Jessica, if you let me do the talking, and just nod or shake your head if he asks you anything.” Jay took a deep breath. “Okay then, let’s do this.”

They walked into the store, Jay leading the way and she just behind him, Yangus hanging back outside the doorway so as not to overcrowd the store but within hearing distance if he was needed. Which was just as well as the store was... small, to say the least. No booth displaying his wares here, just a single room with tools and material stacked on the walls and piled in the corner, and a couple of seats for customers. Apart from a large wooden table where the man himself was currently working, the shop was fairly bare.

“Good day to you-” Jay began when the cobber did not immediately respond to their entering, but the cobbler put up a hand to forestall Jay and continued with his work. Only when he was finished some moments later did he look up and greet them.

“Welcome, Fellow Travellers. May I be of service?”

“Yes, Good Master. We were looking to buy a pair of walking boots.”

“That is certainly something I can help with. Sit down.”

They shared a glance at the cobbler’s brusque manner, but took a seat all the same as the man went through the door into what she presumed was the living area. He promptly returned with the tea, and they then went through the Rites. “Welcome, travellers. You must be weary from your journey” the cobbler began. “Please, make yourself welcome; my home is your home. If you are thirsty, share my drink. If you are hungry, share my food. If you are tired, rest with me in safety. Stay with me in friendship, until the time that your journey must continue.”

“Blessings be upon your home, Good Host. May the Goddess watch over your household” Jay answered. “Our journey is not long, and our destination not far, but we would gladly accept your offer. We need no food nor place to rest, but we welcome your offer of drink and friendship.”

“Then please, sit with me, and let us drink together.” They all drank, and then the cobbler asked the obvious question. “What is it you want?”

“A pair of walking boots for my companion, for travelling long distances and fighting in” Jay replied promptly. “No special requirements other than the usual, but we do need them tomorrow.”

“The last part does complicate things – I’ll have to charge you extra for the rush job.”

“I understand that.”

“What time do you need them?”

“The time isn’t so important as the day – I’d like to have a chance to break them in a bit tomorrow afternoon, but we need to leave first thing the day after.”

“I see. Tomorrow mid-afternoon then?”

“That would be fine.”

“Very well. Let me have a look then.”

Jay beckoned her forward as the cobbler placed some leather on the floor, and she removed her shoes and stood on the leather as directed. The cobbler then folded the leather around her legs, making markations as he went. “Hmm. Well, there shouldn’t be any problem with the making of them, and I have all the materials I need. It’s just the matter of time that’s going to cost you. With the cost of the materials, plus the labour, a little extra for the rush... I’d ask for two hundred and twenty gold coins.”

Jay grimaced. “I was hoping for something closer to a hundred and fifty – I know you normally sell shoes for eighty gold coins, if you have a pre-made version prepared-”

“Unfortunately I don’t, and if I have to make it from scratch I charge more.”

“I feared as much. Still, two hundred is a lot, and we don’t have much budget... Is there no way I can convince you to lower the price at all? I know you have a reputation for quality, but this shouldn’t be a long trip, and it’s not likely she’ll need them again.”

She started to say something to that, but caught herself in time – Jay was the one negotiating, and if he wanted to play down how important the boots were then fine. “If they aren’t that important, then why the rush?” the cobbler asked reasonably.

“It’s an unexpected trip. Originally she wasn’t supposed to be coming, but after what happened to her brother she volunteered to join us to see it through to the end – after this trip, she won’t be coming with us again, so she won’t need the boots.” She had to bite her tongue to stay silent that time.

“But she does need them now” the cobbler pointed out.

“We would like them now, but we’ve not got much coin and we’ll do without if we have to” Jay told him, sounding apologetic but firm all the same, as if he really had no room to negotiate. She wondered if he really would refuse to buy her some boots if the cobbler did not lower the price – after all the fuss he had made about getting her the right equipment she doubted it. But then again it was **his** coin and he had no reason to spend it on her, and in fact she had argued against him going to all this trouble in the first place, so-

“What price did you have in mind then?” the cobbler asked.

“Well, I was originally thinking double the usual, so one hundred and sixty.”

“The usual isn’t eighty, it’s a hundred.”

“I see... A hundred and seventy five then?”

“I can’t afford to go that low – I have other orders that need doing, and my time could be better spent on finishing those” the cobbler said, shaking his head.

“But my companion said you had nothing pressing” Jay replied. “Look, I can’t go any higher than a hundred and eighty.”

“Not even to a hundred and ninety? That’s more than thirty off my original offer.”

Jay sucked in his breath, as if struggling with himself. But she knew him well enough to know that he did not make noises, even when struggling to come to a decision – the question was, how far was he going to push it. “How about a hundred and eighty-five?” he said after a long pause, almost wincing at the concession.

“I suppose, but don’t let word of this get around – I’m not a charity.”

“Of course, of course, I understand” Jay agreed as they shook to confirm the trade. “Would a hundred be enough for a deposit?”

“Given how much you need the boots I wasn’t going to worry, but if you have the coin with you...”

“I wouldn’t want to impose on your generosity. Here as a gesture of our good faith.” Jay handed over a couple of bags of gold coins, taking a couple of others from Yangus. “I’ll need to fetch the rest.”

“Of course, of course” the cobbler nodded, checking the amount. “I should have them ready tomorrow midmorning – no earlier mind, or the shielding enchantments won’t be fixed properly.”

“We’ll come just before lunch then.”

“That’ll be fine. I may keep you a little while for the final adjustments, make sure they’re comfortable, but it won’t be for long.”

“That’s okay, we won’t be going anywhere tomorrow, take your time. If we’re buying them, we’d like to make them last long as we can.”

“Don’t worry, I don’t do half-measures – I make my shoes to last. She’ll grow out of them long before they fall apart.”

They had another drink of tea to seal the deal, then concluded with the Rites and made their way outside, re-joining Yangus as he led them to the tent store.

“That seemed a lot of money for some boots” she commented.

“Yes” Jay sighed. “It could have been a lot worse though – it’s a rush job, so I was in a weak position to negotiate and he knew it. At least he didn’t drive me too hard, or I might’ve had to come back after I’d ‘sold some stuff’ to pay for it. The tent will be easier, as they’ll have something in stock.”

“Would you have walked away, if he charged too high a price?”

“...I don’t know. I didn’t want to, but... Maybe. If the price really was too high.”

“I see. And Jay?”

“Yes?”

“Did you attempt to use my brother’s death to get a discount?”

“What!? Uh, no? I just referenced it very indirectly! I didn’t even say that he was dead!”

“Good. Because you understand what would happen if you did, right?”

“Yes! Yes! Just... put your hands down, before someone sees you – you’re sparking!”

She shoved her hands into her cloak and quickly reigned in her temper – she had no more desire to be seized by the town militia or reported to the Mages’ Guild than Jay wanted to have another fireball in his face. “...In any case, do you understand my point?”

“Absolutely! Right, Yangus?”

“Yep, no prob!”

“Good.”

“...”

“...”

“...”

“...So Yangus, how far is the next shop?”

\-----

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I mainly wrote this (again from Jessica's perspective) to show how Jessica is settling in. As in, everything is still rather new and strange, and she's not quite found her balance yet. For those who think Jessica seems a bit timid at the moment - she's in a very different world compared to the one that she's lived in until now (as seen above), so it's only natural that her usual confidence and self-assurance is missing right now, especially given her circumstances.
> 
> Those familiar with the game may notice that the alchemy recipe I give for Jessica's leather dress is completely wrong. While I do try and stick to canon as much as I can (mostly), I will take some liberties with the alchemy side of things. I'm excusing it by saying that all Alchemy Pots are different, but really it's so I have more freedom as to what items they can create and how and when they create them. Essentially the idea is to present recipes that are logical, or at least seem logical - and explain how some of the more off-the-wall results get created. I mean, adding a nail and a leather hat creates a pointy hat? Why would you even try that in the first place!? While in-game the answer might be 'by finding an Alchemy recipie' (search everything!), this doesn't work in a story (would Jay go into other people's houses and check all their bookshelves? And happen to find a single page in a single book that is relevant?) - so basically it won't happen in this story. Here, either it happens through guesswork (Jess' dress), mistake (thief's key) or by being told from someone else who has an Alchemy Pot (with no guarantee that it'll end up the same way). Besides, you don't want me to tell you how to play the game, right? That's what walkthroughs are for! ;)
> 
> Anyway, I hope you find the world-building and character exploration interesting, even though it's primarily a lot of talking and introspection. I did throw in a sparring session to try and make it more interesting! For those of you who want me to get on with the story however, I'll be returning to canon next chapter. With a few embellishments, of course.


	12. The Templar

He was getting worried. It had been more than two weeks since they had left Peregrin Quay, and they had followed the coast east to the Sella mountain range without any sign of Dhoulmagus. Not seeing any point of trying to pass the mountains unnecessarily, they had turned back, checking further inland as they circled back to Peregrin Quay and then followed the coast west. Without success. No-one had seen a jester, walking on the water or otherwise. Having exhausted the northern coast, they had been following the western shore south on the off chance anyone might have seen Dhoulmagus, but eventually they had to admit they were clutching at straws – they had lost him.

Yesterday King Trode had decided that, with no further leads, they would have to make good on his promise and simply visit every settlement further inland until they found word of Dhoulmagus. Despite what His Majesty had said about being able to take as long as necessary however, their funds would not last forever, and the Princess could do with a break from pulling the wagon. Not to mention that the longer they took, the further Dhoulmagus might have travelled and so they would have to search even further, and that was assuming he wasn’t simply hiding in a cave somewhere.

No, they needed a lead, and soon.

Today though they had taken a day out of their search to travel to nearby Maella Abbey. After all, with one of the world’s three most holy sites of worship so close it would be foolish not to go and pray to the Goddess for help. It may be the lesser of the three sites, neither the home of the Holy Premier nor the site of the enormous Goddess Statue, but it was here that the Church had first been founded. Although the original building had been destroyed in the Great Calamity and several replacements destroyed in the Demon Wars, this latest building of Maella Abbey was still considered the birthplace of the Church, and as such held a special place in the hearts of the faithful. People travelled from all over the world on pilgrimage, as it was thought that the Goddess might look favourably on their prayers. Her Teachings said otherwise of course, that she would hear their prayers no matter when or where, but everyone agreed that making an extra effort would make the Lady look more favourably on them. So why would they not come here to ask for help finding Dhoulmagus? Jessica could pray for her brother’s soul and that he would find peace at the side of the Goddess, and he and Their Majesties would pray for the restoration of Trodain. And Yangus... Well, he’d probably pray for something.

And there it was – as they reached the brow of the hill the Abbey appeared below them, built on a small island in the middle of Ain River. A large stone bridge, so large it was almost a causeway, connected both sides of the vast river with the Abbey, meeting in the middle just before the main Abbey doors. The doors were huge, two stories high themselves, but the Abbey was even bigger with its roof stretching twice as high, and that was not even counting the steeples reaching into the sky that marked the main church and the monks’ private chapel.

From their vantage point on the hill, they were able to see that the large Abbey building had a large courtyard in the middle, no doubt where they held the outdoor services. And if the two steeples showed where the churches were, the rest of the building must be the sleeping quarters for the monks and the Templars. The main building was surrounded by small strips of grass descending into the river, and at the back there was a sturdy wooden bridge stretching to a small island where a little manor was built – most likely the Abbot’s manse for entertaining more prestigious pilgrims and guests.

As they drew closer they could make out the stain glass window above the main doors of the Abbey – a depiction of the ancient warrior king Mael, who founded the Church back in the Lost Ages, on a rearing horse. Flanking the doors ornate stone carvings further depicted long-forgotten deeds of the founder and his family in service to the Goddess, replicated from the original church although the meaning behind the carvings had been lost. Further along the Abbey walls more familiar scenes appeared depicting the Goddess’ Teachings and her Holy Champions of the past, as well as other mythical figures. Delicately carved, these figures must have been made by a master from Arcadia and at significant expense, though they were now weather-worn and past their prime. Still, they and the imposing Abbey building inspired a sense of awe and humbleness before the Goddess that was hard to recreate; it was easy to see why this was a centre of pilgrimage.

Reaching the bridge, they were met by the guards that protected the Church from monsters and any other threat in Empyreus – the Holy Templars. As always, they were splendidly dressed in a finely cut dark blue vestment and an even darker blue short-sleeved tunic with a thin white border, a black belt and a scabbard holding a well-polished sword. Recruited from the ranks of the nobility, they lived alongside the monks and were expected to set an example to the rest of the faithful, promoting harmony while protecting the innocent from danger. Well-trained and well-paid, they were a force to be reckoned with, answerable to no-one except the Church.

As King Trode and the Princess crossed the bridge, being sure to keep a low profile, the three of them approached the Abbey reverently. As they went through the door, their breath was taken away by its majesty. They had entered the main church, comprised of one single hall filled with pews where the faithful were allowed to worship; it was a cool refreshing temperature and the light streaming through the stain glass windows created colourful patterns on the floor. The walls and the floor were both made of the same huge slabs of red-brown sandstone as the rest of the Abbey, plain and austere in contrast to the beautiful paintings that graced the walls with more images of the Goddess, the Godbird, scenes from the Church’s early history and of King Mael’s family. At the back of the church there was a beautifully carved marble altar adorned by flowers, and as its centrepiece was a huge golden cross with precious stones embedded in each of its six points, the holy symbol of the Goddess. Behind this was a beautiful statue of the Goddess holding Her hands out to Her people in a welcoming embrace, and above that there was a gorgeous stained-glass window of the same image but much larger. It must have taken great craftsmanship at great expense to build such a thing.

As they stood there in simple wonder a monk with a tonsure and dressed in the usual plain robe fastened by a rope belt approached them. He turned to start the Rites, but instead the monk said “If the weight of sin bears down upon you, may I suggest a contribution of gold to the abbey? This will please the Goddess and She will grant you an indulgence.”

He and the others stared at the monk; certainly, none of the churches he’d ever been to had ever demanded something like that. The Teachings stated the Goddess’ mercy was free to all who were truly sorry and wanted to make amends – asking for gold was almost implying Her mercy could be bought, which was the complete opposite of her Teachings.

Still, it was true that if someone wanted to make amends then they should pay for their sin, and giving money to those in need was one way of making amends... Besides, this was a monk at the birthplace of the Church – if anyone knew the Teachings of the Goddess it would be him. He didn’t have much coin with him and neither did the others, and in any case they had little to spare, so he counted out a small handful of coins, no more than forty or so, and gave it to the monk.

The monk wrinkled his nose and gave them a disdainful look. “I pray that you learn true devotion commands greater sacrifice” the man sniffed, walking away.

...What?

“What did he just say?” Jessica echoed.

“I... I’m not sure” he replied, dumbfounded. That... That couldn’t have just happened. Right?

Doing his best to push it from his mind, writing it off as some misunderstanding, he made his way to the Altar to pray. But, as he made his way past the other pilgrims, when he heard what they were praying he began to feel uneasy again. One was asking for her sin to be forgiven after paying **three thousand gold coins** – what had she done to need to pay that much? And another one, he was asking the Goddess to help him with his debts after donating five thousand gold coins to her – **five thousand gold coins!** Shouldn’t he have used the coin to pay his debts first!?

“Stop!”

He glanced up. Another monk was bearing down on them. “Good day Brother, can I-”

“Where do you think you are going!?” the monk demanded.

“Uh... the Altar, to pray-”

“To our Altar? Like _that_?” the monk said, acting scandalised.

W-what? “The Teachings say any can approach the Goddess if their intentions-”

“Yes, yes, of course, but that did not mean that you can just wander in as you please, your raggedy clothes covered in dust from the road!” What? “And you even brought your weapons into this holy place of worship!”

“Of course we brought our weapons! How else could we get here safely?”

“If you trust in mere steel rather than the protection of our Holy Goddess, then your faith is weak indeed” the monk sneered. “Go cleanse yourselves in the fountain in the courtyard, then return with the proper reverence and humility as befits this place and you will be permitted to approach the Altar.”

He bowed respectfully, and if it was a touch less than he would show to his King, that was because the monk had proved himself not worthy of respect. Trust in the Goddess’ protection to keep them safe from monsters? The Goddess who taught how they had to work together and strive hard to overcome adversity rather than rely on Her strength alone? The Goddess who trusted them to manage their own affairs while She protected them from the horrors they could not stand against?

“Do they not even read the Teachings here?” Jessica snarled once they’d walked into the courtyard, away from the suddenly stifling atmosphere of the Abbey church.

“I... They must do! I mean, this is the place where the Church started! One of the three Holiest of Holy places! How could they not know the Teachings!?”

“Really? Then what back there reflected any of the Teachings you know?”

“I...” He couldn’t answer that.

“As I thought. I do not know about either of you, but I was made to study the Teachings in **great** detail throughout my life, and I never heard anything as ridiculous as that! Trust in the Goddess’ protection to keep us safe from monsters – She may protect us from what we are unable to stand against, but She does not coddle us! She would more likely say the fool who got himself killed because he did not defend himself brought it upon himself! We have never been able to travel safely unarmed, not even when She still walked among us! And those prayers... Praying to the Goddess to forgive their sins after donating gold – have you ever heard anything like it?”

“Well... demonstrating remorse for wrongdoing is a part of the Teachings, and giving money to the Church to help those in need has always been the best way to-”

“I know that! Of course I know that! But giving money to the Church as a sign of remorse is one thing, expecting to be forgiven **because** you have given the money is missing the point entirely! Whatever you give is supposed to be given because you wish to make up for what you have done, not because you expect something in return! It is like putting the cart before the horse!”

“Yeah well, it’s blurry, ain’t it?” Yangus pointed out. “You start givin’ money ‘cos you feel bad, but then people start givin’ more money to show they’re more remooseful, and then they forget why they’re givin’ money in the first place an’ just expect to be forgiven.”

“Well... Yes, I can see that happening. But the Church is supposed to be correcting that sort of thing, not encouraging it! What was wrong with that monk at the door, sneering at our offering like that!? He may not know we do not have much money, but it is hardly his place to judge whether our offering is ‘worthy’ or not! The Goddess Herself said there was no such thing as a ‘worthy’ offering! And to take issue with our clothes!”

“You get sent out too?” They turned to see one of the other pilgrims coming towards them, water still dripping from his hands.

“Uh, yes” he admitted. “Were you?”

“Yes, I think they want all people to go to the fountain now to wash their hands if they pray before the Altar. I only came from Simpleton and he still made me wash my hands before I could pray.”

“Simpleton?”

“It’s a town not far from ‘ere” Yangus explained. “Closest one to the abbey – it’s where most the pilgrims stay.”

“The pilgrims? You mean the Abbey doesn’t offer them Hospitality?”

“By the Lady, no!” the stranger laughed. “You think monks like the one you met in there want the likes of us staying here? In fairness to them, they get far too many pilgrims to host them all, so they had accommodation built in Simpleton, which was all well and good. Only they’re beginning to get funny about how long people stay, and how many people are staying, and it’s not like the Templars will just take you there...”

“But... the Rites... the Teachings... They can’t...”

“You’re new to this, aren’t you lad?” the pilgrim grinned. “Well, I can understand. A lot of the pilgrims are the same way – expecting things to be just the same as they are in their home churches, then finding the monks here aren’t exactly welcoming. It’s always the way. But you see, this is one of the Three Holiest of Holy Sites you know, so the Teachings don’t hold as strong here.”

“What? But surely-”

“It’s ‘cos o’ all the ‘elms, ain’t it?” Yangus commented.

“What? What is that supposed to mean!?” Jessica demanded.

“No, it’s as he said lass – there’s a lot of honour serving in a place like this, so many of the Helms that join the Church apply to serve here. But they join the Church for a career rather than out of devotion, so their hearts aren’t in the right place and their grasp of the Teachings aren’t as good as they should be, which leads to fools like the one you met earlier.”

“But... surely that kind of monk should be turned away and rebuked for that kind of behaviour!” Jessica said incredulously.

“Ah, to be young and innocent again. Although that should be the way of it, the truth is the Church depends on the donations of the wealthy to build and decorate abbeys such as this, and so if Helms want their sons and daughters to serve in places of prestige, they get their way.”

“But that’s horrible!” Jessica exclaimed.

“And completely against the Teachings!” he added.

“Sorry young ‘uns, but wherever you go in the world, money talks. Even in the Church” the pilgrim told them. “Mind you, it didn’t use to be as bad as this.”

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“Oh, Abbot Francisco used to keep some of the more – ‘doctrinally-challenged’, shall we say? – from getting too carried away. But the Abbot’s old now, and his strength is failing – he doesn’t have many more years to live. He’s offered to step-down many times, but the Church won’t hear of it – he’s too well-respected and honoured for them to dream of making him a ‘mere monk’, and any new abbot would live in his shadow. But until a new abbot’s appointed things are going to just keep slipping. It’s a shame – Abbot Francisco has done a lot for the Abbey and the Church, to allow it to end like this is... Well, it’s a tragedy.”

“I... I can’t believe it. It... This shouldn’t be possible” he whispered.

“Is there nothing that can be done? Surely it is not only the Abbot who can put a stop to such bad practices?” Jessica demanded.

“Well, the old Templar Captain kept things well in hand, but his successor...” The man sighed. “I don’t know. He’s highly respected in the Abbey and the town, a close confident of the Abbot and he’s been training for the role a long time now. But... I swear things weren’t this bad before he became Captain. I guess no matter how you train, you never know how it’ll work out when the time finally comes.”

“I guess not...”

“Well, I can’t stand here all day – I’ve got to get back to my pub. Be sure to visit later!”

“May the Goddess watch over you on your journey, and keep your path smooth and easy” he recited.

“May the Goddess watch over you on your journey, and keep your path smooth and easy” the man returned.

After the man had left they walked to the fountain and washed their hands and faces, and brushed the dust from their clothes as best as they were able. “Be sure to check out that pub later guv” Yangus told him, digging him in the ribs. “Best pub for miles around – it’s ‘uge! Got two floors, loads o’ booze, a band, an’ the best set o’ tavern wenches one you can find!”

“ **Yangus!** ” Jessica snapped.

“Wot? They’re quick wiv the drinks, an’ they don’t get the orders wrong neither.”

“...Right.”

“And their uniforms are-

“ **What?** ”

“-clean too.”

“They had better be” Jessica growled. “Just remember where we are.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Yangus peered at him. “You alright guv? You look a bit down.”

“I... I am” he admitted. “It... This isn’t what I expected.”

“Oh. Right. Sorry guv. I should’ve known all this’d bother you.”

“You mean you already knew?”

Yangus shrugged. “It’s ain’t like I didn’t expect it. Where there’s money, an’ all that. It’s not like I’ve ever ‘ad many good experiences wiv men o’ the cloth, if you know wot I mean.”

“I can guess” he sighed. “Well, let’s get-”

“Halt, who goes there?” They started and turned to see two Templars behind them. “I don’t know you. What are you doing here?” demanded the second Templar, walking closer as the two placed their hands on their swords, ready to draw.

“We’re travellers” he replied, unsure why they were so angry. “We were just-” The Templar shoved him backwards, taking him completely by surprise. Caught off guard, he tripped on the paving stones and fell heavily on them.

“Oi! Wot was that for!?” Yangus demanded, only for the Templar to draw his sword and point it at his throat.

“You need special permission to enter here” the Templar sneered, his partner looking on indifferently. “Leave, now, unless you want to die by a Templar’s sword!”

“You were ordered to keep strangers out, not to be rude” came a voice, its measured tones enough to cause both the guards whirl round. A slim darkly handsome man walked into the courtyard, dressed in a slightly modified version of the Templar Uniform – his dark blue tunic and breeches with their white borders were normal, but he also wore a small cape with a red lining over his shoulders. Along with his brightly polished military boots and smart black leather gloves that stretched to his elbows, he made an impressive appearance. Most importantly though, he recognised the small emblem of a silver dagger pinned onto his collar, the mark of a Templar Captain. “We have a reputation to maintain” the Captain continued. “Do you want to sully the name of the Templars?”

“Captain Marcello!” gasped the guard who had pushed him over, dropping to one knee.

“I’m sorry, Captain” the other templar apologised, quickly doing the same as Marcello walked over to them. The Captain glanced at the unsheathed sword and raised an eyebrow, and the Templar hastily shoved it back into its scabbard.

“I apologise for the heavy-handedness of my men” Captain Marcello said at last, his tone polite but unconcerned. “We have had some trouble with strangers of late, and we have been taking additional security measures. Our duty is to protect the Abbey after all, and we cannot permit nameless travellers to wander around at will. Matters within the abbey are trouble enough.”

“It was one of your monks who told us to come here to wash!” Jessica said indignantly.

“Ah. In future, use the river – these are our quarters” the Captain replied without so much as an apology. “I trust you have no further business here, so I would ask you to leave. I warn you, my men are ill at ease. I may not be around to stop them next time.”

...What? Did he just... threaten them?

With his last words hanging in the air, the Captain made a point at looking at each of the faces of the two Templars, then marched through the courtyard and swept through the doors at the far end. “Curse you! Now I’m in the captain’s bad books!” the aggressive templar snarled as the two of them got back to their feet. “Clear off!”

Well, he knew better than to stick around where he wasn’t wanted. The three of them left straight away, pausing only briefly to pay their respects to the Altar before leaving the Abbey and making their way to the far side of the river where they met with the Royals.

“Ah, Maella Abbey, I remember it well” the King sighed fondly. “I visited it on my ‘Grand Tour’ of course, though I went in disguise back then so no-one would have known me. I was lucky enough to meet with Abbot Francisco himself, and listen to some of his teachings on the lawn round the back of the Abbey – it was both awe-inspiring and very humbling. I have been meaning to go on another more official pilgrimage some years now, before it is too late and the Abbot’s story comes to an end, but circumstances have never allowed. I wish I could have gone with you this time, but, well, given my ‘current condition’ I do not think that I would be very welcome. What did you think of the place?” He paused, glancing at them when none of them replied. “Well, go on.”

“Rude, arrogant and ignorant, and do not get me **started** on the Templars!” Jessica spat, her hands sparking as her temper flared.

“Yeah, the way they treated us like dirt was rotten!” Yangus agreed. “I mean, I’m used to it but they’ve no right to treat the guv like that.”

“ **What?** ” gasped the King, dropping the reigns and staring at them. The Princess gave a surprised snort and actually tripped in shock, bringing the wagon to an abrupt halt and staring at them just as incredulously as her father. “You must be mistaken! When I went there it-”

“-were a long time ago, weren’t it?” Yangus interrupted. “Wotever ‘appened back then ain’t wot it’s like now, take it from me.”

“I will not-”

“And me – I have never been so insulted in my life!” Jessica snapped.

“But surely-”

“My apologies Sire, it is as they say” he said quietly, but firmly. He tried not to be quite so blatant when he disagreed with the King, but this time he had no choice. “They... They broke the Rites of Hospitality.”

Everyone went quiet.

“Jay, think about what you are saying” the King said carefully. “This is Maella Abbey, the birthplace of the Church, one of the three Holiest of Holy Sites. Are you saying they actually failed in fulfilling the third fundamental tenet of the Goddess’ Teachings? The very Teachings they teach others?”

“Yes Sire. When we arrived, instead of being offered Hospitality we were asked for donations by one of the monks in return for forgiveness of our sins.”

“That is hardly-”

“I gave him a little, just what we had to spare, and the monk scorned our offering – he said it showed we lacked devotion.”

“Well, that’s-”

“When we went to pray at the Altar we were stopped and rebuked for bringing weapons into the Abbey – when I pointed out we needed them to protect us from monsters, the monk told us we lacked faith.”

“He **what?** ”

“He also criticised our ‘raggedy clothes’ and dusty appearance, and told to wash in the fountain before he’d let us pray at the Altar.”

“What? But that is-”

“When we did so we were challenged by two Templars, one who pushed me over without provocation and then held a sword to Yangus’ throat when he objected.”

“That cannot-”

“Finally the Templar Captain came, but although he rebuked the two Templars for being rude, he blamed us for going where we shouldn’t and if we needed to clean ourselves we should use the river. The Templar who attacked us wasn’t even punished.”

“I... My word... Are you _sure?_ ”

“It wasn’t that long-ago Sire – I haven’t forgotten.”

“I see...” was all the King could make out – he seemed totally speechless.

Well, he might as well finish what he’d started. He slowly brushed down his clothes with deliberate precise movements, mimicking shaking off the dust on his clothes. Finishing with shaking the dust on his boots, he quietly recited “May the Goddess see what has happened today and log it under their account. May She show them the error of their ways and bring them back to the right path before their journey ends and their story finishes.”

“Solib” Jessica and Yangus intoned with him.

“Oh. Well. I see” King Trode said shortly, after an extended pause. “This is... distressing. Very distressing indeed. To think that things could have deteriorated to such an extent...” The King gave himself a small shake. “No matter, the Rite is done – it is behind us now. The question is, given that Maella Abbey has not offered us Hospitality, what are our plans from here?”

“I suppose we should head to Simpleton – that’s where all the pilgrims seem to end up” he suggested. “It’s the town nearest here.”

“Simpleton? Well, I suppose if we must” the King sighed. “I cannot say that I greatly enjoyed my visit last time – the local Helm was a deeply unpleasant fellow, for all his proximity to Maella Abbey and Abbot Francisco’s good council. Then the town was hit hard by plague some years back, and the Helm and his family were wiped out. With so many of their people gone it would be better to call it a village now rather than a town, but I do remember it offering plenty of accommodation. Hopefully that should not have changed. Remind me, which way is it?”

He started to reply, then realised he had no idea and just glanced at Yangus instead. “It’s this way” Yangus said confidently, already leading the way. The Princess gave herself a shake and let out a small snort, then followed his lead. He and Jessica brought up the rear, but before they disappeared into the wood he took one last look behind him.

The Abbey looked as awe-inspiring as ever, perched on its island in the middle of the river, the great bridge large enough for two carts to easily cross the wide span of the river as the thunderous waterfall flowed beneath. But... the sparkle had worn off now, the aura of holiness he’d felt earlier diminished. Maella Abbey, a place he’d heard of so much when he was a child, always spoken in reverent tones, had been nothing like he’d imagined. It was such a shock, he just couldn’t understand how it had been allowed to fall, how it could drift from its own Teachings so.

Well, it didn’t matter. They wouldn’t be going back there again.

\-----

“Dozens of inns, and all of them complete rip-offs” Jay grumbled as they settled down around the table in the pub. “Does no-one honour the Rites of Hospitality here?” She had honestly never seen him look so depressed – as shocked as she had been, he seemed to be taking their visit to Maella Abbey hard.

“After the Queens’ plague ‘it this place and the local ‘elm died, this place ain’t ever recovered – most the business round ‘ere is lookin’ after pilgrims comin’ to the Abbey” Yangus told them. “Last time I came ‘ere there was some cheaper stuff, but they was pretty run-down. Looks like the Abbey bought ‘em, knocked ‘em down an’ built their own stuff instead, an’ the others just went outta business. ‘Course, if the Abbey’s gonna ask fer more ‘donations’ fer the rooms, mebbe the cheap stuff’ll come back.”

“Evening all, can I take your orders?”

“Three ales, house brand please” Jay answered. “Mine’s a mild, what about you two?”

“Mine’s a strong, thanks love” Yangus told the serving girl.

“Um... mild please.” She was not used to drinking, so it would be wiser to stick with something weaker for now.

The serving girl seemed a little put out that Jay hadn’t even glanced at her outfit, but she didn’t make a fuss and just repeated their order back to them and left to check on another table. Yangus grinned at her, but she refused to rise to his bait, not with so many people about to see her lose her temper. Instead she took the opportunity to look around the place – she had never actually been in a pub before. Even over the last couple of weeks Yangus had always been the one asking around, while she and Jay cleaned up after dinner and looked after the campsite.

“Are all pubs like this?” she asked.

“Not even close” Jay laughed. “I’ve never seen one this big before – it’s almost the size of a Village Anchor!”

“Biggest pub on the continent, probably in the world” Yangus agreed. “Loads o’ different drinks an’ lots of ‘em, does food as well an’ ‘as music nearly all the time – they got one o’ ‘em pianas that can play ‘emselves when the bards wanna break. Uniforms ain’t ‘xatly usual ‘ere either.”

“I can tell” she said dryly. “I am surprised to see so many people here though.”

“Well, Simpleton’s famous for its pub – some folk go on pilgrimage to the abbey, but others come ‘ere for the pub! The only difference is people comin’ to the pub don’t leave disappointed, eh?”

“Yangus...”

“Sorry guv.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Right. Anyway, you get people from all over in ‘ere: the locals, pilgrims, traders, monks, travellers, even Helms an’ the like – they got a separate space for ‘em upstairs.”

“Hey, I was just looking at the food they have here – do you want to eat here for dinner?” Jay offered. “It’s not that expensive and-”

“Sounds great” both she and Yangus said enthusiastically. While there was nothing wrong with Jay’s cooking, it **was** rather bland, and mostly just different types of stew over and over again. No matter what was on offer, if Jay was willing to spend some of their budget on it then they were more than willing to take him up on it.

“Here are your drinks Masters and Mistress” the serving girl said not long after they had chosen what they wanted to eat, serving her drink first and then Yangus before finishing with Jay. Jay turned to thank her as she placed the drink in front of him, only to get distracted half way – it seemed the serving girl had taken his earlier lack of attention as a challenge, as she was bending down a **lot** more than she needed to for a single glass, giving Jay quite the show. She could hardly blame Jay for getting distracted.

Still, Jay only blinked once before looking the serving girl in the eye. “Thank you very much” he said appreciatively. “Could we order some food order please?”

“Certainly. What would you like to order?”

“Jessica wanted the beef steak, Yangus wanted the pork ribs, and I would like the mutton please. All well done.”

“Certainly. There’ll be a half hour wait.”

“Thank you.”

“Not at all. Enjoy your drinks, and let me know if you need anything.” The serving girl gave him a big smile, then left to place their order. Seeing Jay’s eyes follow her as she went, she smirked and added a little extra swing into her walk, making the tail twitch madly.

Jay slowly looked round the rest of the bar. “The uniforms... are bunny girl outfits?”

“Yep” Yangus nodded, a broad grin on his face.

“...Why?”

“Why’d you think?”

“...Fair enough. I’m just surprised the Abbey hasn’t put a stop to it.”

“Oh, I don’t reckon they’re complainin’” Yangus told him, pointing to the two monks who had just come in and were eyeing the low-cut blouses and short skirts of the serving girls very appreciatively.

“You have got to be kidding me” Jay groaned, holding his head in his hands.

“Men” she sighed, rolling her eyes. “And what do the women who come here get?”

“There’s a list on the bar” Yangus said, surprising her. “You say wot you want, an’ the barman will change into it an’ serve you personally, unless someone asks for summink else. There’s only one o’ ‘im, but ‘e’s said ‘e’d ‘ire more men if people want.”

“…Oh.” Now she really wanted to know what the list said.

“You can go look if you like” Jay offered helpfully.

“No! Let’s talk about something else!”

Thankfully Jay was kind enough to change the subject, and they talked about anything other than the Abbey, Dhoulmagus, or the staff uniforms until their food arrived. While they were eating more and more people started coming into the pub, most for the drink rather than food, and soon the bar was packed with raucous talk and drunken patrons from all walks of life. Honestly, the noise was starting to get overwhelmingly loud, and the number of people crammed into what had previously felt like a large room was starting to feel oppressive. After a couple of refills as the evening went on, she was tipsy enough to feel a little buzzed, but not enough to be truly comfortable in what was to her a strange and intimidating place. She wanted to leave, but Jay had found a peddler trying to sell his goods in the bar. The man had already had a few drinks, and even Jay could not resist taking advantage and haggle down his prices. Yangus had started talking to a dazed-looking man on the next table, so she simply observed the antics of the people around her while she waited to leave.

There really were all kinds of people here. She was glad Jay had not noticed another stream of monks sneak in from the Abbey and take their drinks upstairs, or the Templars who had been drifting in either. There were pilgrims of course, most tired and dusty from making the journey on foot, as well as a couple of plainly richer ones in fine fabrics who were whisked away upstairs for a more genteel atmosphere. Then there were the locals, coming in loud jovial groups and taking their ‘usual’ before slowly drinking the evening away, some more heavily than others. And there were some who had been here since before they arrived and showed no sign of leaving before they had drunken themselves into Oblivion – some were already unconscious.

Out of all the hubbub however there was one group that caught her eye. They were playing a card game, like many of the others, but what was different was the atmosphere that surrounded them. While most of the games were cheery and jovial, this one seemed unusually tense. On one side of the table were three bulky men who looked a lot like Yangus, covered in scars and rippling with muscles. Only one of them was playing now, the other two flanking him as all three glared at their opponent.

Their opponent could not have been more different from the heavy-set trio opposite him; he was slim and elegant and rather good-looking – and from his prideful manner it looked like he knew it too. Certainly the serving girls all fussed over him, summoned like a magnet when he first arrived and only set about their duties with obvious reluctance after the barman, the man they had met at the Abbey, had personally gone and fetched them. The other thing that marked him out was his silver hair, tied back into a ponytail that stretched all the way down to his waist – not a haircut one would ordinarily associate with the Templars. Stranger still, his clothes resembled a Templar’s, but they were red instead of the usual blue. Yet his style of dress was too similar to be-

“Wot ‘appened to me bro, the poker king?” one of the gang of three snapped after another hand came to an end, the wager pushed into the growing pile of coins by the platinum-haired man.

“Yeah, you’ve lost seventy ‘undred already. ‘ow we s’posed to get back wiv no dough?” the other whined.

“Shut it!” snarled the battle-scarred card-player, before turning to his opponent and growling “One more round, everythin’ or nothin’.”

His opponent man smirked from the other end of the table and drawled in a light amused voice “Still got coin to lose, have you?”

“I ain’t out yet!”

“That’s the spirit! One more round it is!”.

“I ‘ope you know wot you’re doin’, bro” the first guy muttered as they started to deal the cards.

She watched as the hand went on, not truly familiar with the game but sufficiently aware that something was not right. She managed to catch the eye of their serving girl as she went past and asked who the couple playing were. “That’s Angelo” the barmaid giggled. “Isn’t he dreamy~? He comes here all the time. He’s a Templar at the Abbey, you know, the best-looking one of the lot~. He always wins at cards~.”

“Really” she said flatly, liking the girl less and less. “And who is the one he is playing?”

“Oh, I dunno; some traveller who arrived a few days ago” the barmaid answered. She must have noticed her irritated look, because she added “Sorry, I can’t keep track of everyone who passes through here. He’s not my type, looks a real bruiser, doesn’t tip well – I didn’t pay much attention.”

“I see... Well, thanks anyway.”

“Sorry.” And with one last shrug the serving girl was off, back to her other customers.

“Wot was that?” Yangus asked, noticing her conversation.

“Oh, I was asking her about the people playing cards over there. They are playing pretty high stakes for a simple card game”

“Where?” Yangus asked as he looked around the pub. He quickly found them, and his brows narrowed in thought. “I know that bloke...”

“Which one?”

“The big’un on the right. I’ve seen ‘im ‘fore, I’m sure o’ it... I know!” he cried, slamming the table. “Yeah, that’s Big Pete, the Poker King from Pickham, an’ ‘is gang. ‘e’s good wiv cards, an’ usually wins big time; it’s why ‘e always plays for ‘igh stakes. ‘e’s alright, as long as he wins.”

“What happens if he loses?”

“Then things get broken. Why?”

“Because I heard them say they have lost seventy hundr- I mean seven thousand already.”

Yangus’ eyes widened. “Then they’ll duff that guy up good and proper like; they ‘ate losing. ‘e don’t stand a chance.”

“What? Then we should warn him!”

“Nah, no sense in getting mixed up in it. If ‘e don’t know now, ‘e will soon.”

“But he could be hurt!”

“Not our problem.”

“Well **someone** has to do something!” She got up and walked over to the lone player, Angelo, ignoring Yangus’ attempts to stop her. As she arrived though Angelo held up a hand to stop her from interrupting.

“Not now, I’ve almost got this game in the bag” Angelo told her, frowning at his cards.

“You wot?” Big Pete snapped, throwing down his cards. “You little runt, you must be cheating!”

“Take it easy” Yangus said jovially, wandering over and patting Pete on the shoulder as the pub suddenly fell eerily silent except for the jarring sound of jaunty music from the piano. “No need to get excited. I know it ‘urts when ya lose and all, but-”

Yangus’ attempts to placate ‘Big Pete’ were cut off as the thug whirled round to face him. “Wot? Oh, I getit! You’re wiv ‘im!” he hissed angrily, giving Yangus a shove backwards.

“Oi! You wanna watch it!” Yangus snapped back, squaring up to him. “Don’t go throwing accusations about! You don’t want to get on my wrong side!”

“Now calm down everyone, let’s not be hasty” Jay interrupted, suddenly joining in before things got out of hand. “We don’t want any-”

He was cut off as Pete’s fist smashed into his face, taking him completely by surprise and sending him crashing into the table behind him and crumpling to the floor, stunned. “You keep outta this!” Pete snarled.

“Oi! You can’t treat the guv like that!”

“Don’t call me that...” came a weak voice from the floor. Yangus’ blood was up now though, and it’d take more than a few words to stop him building into a major rant and blowing the whole thing into a brawl. Spotting a nearby jug of water, she threw it over them both.

“Cool it you two!” she snapped. “What are you, a couple of cavemen?” Angelo whistled, carefully sweeping his winnings into his bag.

“’ey, wot you doin’?” one of Big Pete’s gang butted in.

“Think you’ll get away wiv that just 'cos you’re a girl?” the other sneered as they stepped towards her.

They didn’t get any further though, as Yangus picked up the table and swatted them with it. “Wot’s wiv you two, eh? Two blokes gangin’ up on one bird? Be’ave!”

“That’s it you oaf!” yelled Pete, picking up a chair with a rather startled customer still sitting on it. “Those are me mates. Now you’re gonna get it!”

However he spent too long making threats – Jay had now recovered and tackled him to the floor; Jay was quickly thrown off but then Yangus jumped onto him and they started scuffling on the ground. Pete’s brothers soon joined in and then Jay leapt into the fray to help Yangus, and suddenly chaos broke out across the pub. Several of people from the surrounding tables came charging in, though she honestly could not tell whether they knew who was on which side or even what they were fighting for. But even those not directly involved in the fight started attacking each other, either to settle long-standing grudges and imagined slights or simply to join in the fun, she could not say which. The serving girls ran for cover behind the bar as the barman slammed wooden shutters down, protecting his drinks. Other saner customers bolted for the door, getting out while they still could. She simply backed away as far as she could, waiting for a clean shot.

A gap opened up in the fighting, and she saw Yangus had locked one brother in a headlock and was using him as a shield against Pete, who was throwing a series of punches at Yangus. When the punches were deflected by Yangus’ body shield, he simply charged and slammed Yangus into the wall, winding him.

Suddenly the other brother appeared behind her, somehow managing to creep up on her without her noticing. She spun round to face him, but before either of them had a chance to do anything Jay hit the thug with a running punch, slamming it right into his jaw and sending him crashing into the tables behind. The thug didn’t get up.

Jay turned and grinned at her, and she couldn’t help but grin back. Maybe the alcohol-

Suddenly a man appeared behind Jay, looming threateningly. Quick as a flash she shoved Jay out of the way, just about dodging the man’s attack. Then she grabbed the first thing to hand, and ended up smashing a bottle over his head, knocking him out cold. Another man got up and demanded his bottle back, charging at them, but Jay simply tripped him as the man ran past, leaving the man to stagger forwards and crash into some of the other people fighting.

With the most immediate threats gone they turned back to help Yangus, who was now wrestling with Pete using chairs, tables, other customers and whatever either could lay their hands on as they fought for the upper hand. Other customers were fighting around them for the Lady knew what, and the pub had descended into a scene of utter chaos. Exchanging a glance with Jay, she started to prepare a fireball while Jay began to draw his sword. Before they could though, Angelo, who had somehow disappeared when the fighting began, reappeared behind them and grabbed them by the arm, dragging them out the back door just as Templars came rushing downstairs demanding to know what was going on.

All that faded into nothing though as Angelo led them past the bar and into the back of the building, passing through the extensive kitchens and out the back door. Only then did he release them, clapping his hands together as if he had accomplished a good piece of work.

“So, who are you?” Angelo asked. “You don’t look like Simpletons to me...”

“That a compliment?” Jay asked dryly. “What about you? You don’t look much like a Templar.”

“True, true” Angelo agreed easily. So he **was** a Templar. Unlike the others though his uniform was a crimson red, and instead of the usual tunic and breeches, his was an undershirt shirt and a pair of trousers with white knee-length leggings. Over his undershirt he wore a tailcoat that tapered to his knees, and over that he wore a small black-lined cape that reached his waist. If not for the familiar enchanted embroidery sewn into the clothes, it would have been impossible to guess he was a Templar.

“Anyway, I owe you one. Thanks to you I managed to pull that little caper off without being caught” he continued, flashing them a roguish grin as he shook Jay by the hand. A light crumpling sound came from his sleeve, and when Jay looked at him curiously he laughed and shook half a dozen cards or so from his sleeve. “He was such an easy mark that I got a bit carried away. Still, I’d better not hang around – I don’t want any more trouble.”

He gave Jay a courteous nod and turned to go, but stopped when he saw her glaring at him. But rather than show any sort of remorse or embarrassment for his actions, he simply took the opportunity to look her up and down more closely. “What?” she demanded, feeling distinctly uncomfortable. She suddenly wished that she had changed out of her leather armour into something which was a little less tight around her figure.

“I hope you were not harmed by my little jape” Angelo said, practically purring in a soft silky voice full of false concern, walking over to her and clasping her hand. “Are you alright?”

“You are out of luck!” she snapped, tugging her hand away from him. “I am fine, apart from you **leering** at me!”

Undeterred Angelo continued closing in on her, taking off his glove and pulling a ring off his finger. “By way of thanks for helping me, and as a memento of our ‘encounter’...” Suddenly he grabbed her hand again and folded the ring in it, using the movement and her surprise to get **really** close as she tried to back away, his deep blue eyes filling her vision. He was far, far too close. “The name’s Angelo, I live at Maella Abbey. Show them that ring if you would like to see me. I’ll be expecting you. Farewell for now. Maella Abbey, just ask for Angelo, don’t forget.” He winked at her and smiled another lecherous grin, then he finally left, disappearing round the corner.

She could still feel his touch on her skin, uncomfortably warm and intrusive. She could still feel his eyes on her, mentally undressing her. She felt... She did not know what she felt. Angry, humiliated, upset, angry, shamed, unclean, and angry. No-one had **ever** treated her like that! No-one had even **dared!** To treat her as some sort of fancy, as if she were one of those **serving girls** , as if she would simply roll over and-

“There you are guv! I been lookin’ for you all over! Gave that lot a wot for” Yangus chuckled, joining them suddenly.

She realised Jay had been watching her as if she were about to explode, and she quickly shook off the remaining sparks that were clinging to her fingers. “I hope you don’t plan on keeping this ring!” she snapped. “We’re going right now to give it back to that smarmy cheat whether he likes it or not!”

“Eh? Wot ring?”

“Uh, the um... Was he really a Templar?” Jay asked unhappily. She glared at him. “Uh, right, it doesn’t matter. The guy in red playing cards, Angelo, really was cheating.”

“Wot? Really? ‘ow?”

“He was wearing those wrist-length black leather gloves right? He had about half a dozen cards up there” Jay told him, gesturing to the cards on the ground.

“Wot? Right up ‘is sleeve? An’ Pete didn’t notice? That’s diamond!”

“Yangus!”

“Wot? This sort o’ thing, it’s Pete’s game – ‘e travels all over the place playin’ cards, an’ usin’ ‘is fists to win when ‘is luck don’t. ‘e’s s’posed to know all the tricks ‘n’ all! For this Angelo kid to pull a fast one on _‘_ **im** o’ all people – that’s magic.”

“But none of that is the point!” she reminded them.

“Right” Jay agreed hastily. “You see, after he dragged us out of the fight, he gave us a quick once-over. Or rather, he gave Jessica a once-over.”

“Wot, you mean he-”

“Visually! Visually! Just a glance-over” Jay said hastily as she flushed a bright red. “Anyway, Angelo gave her that ring as a token, so that if she wanted to see him she could show it to the Templars and they’d let her in.”

“...Wot, you mean, inside the Abbey? Bit bold innit? I mean, I know standards ‘ave fallen an’ all, but ain’t that a bit dodgy, ‘avin’-”

“That doesn’t matter!” she cried, not wanting to hear any more. “We are going to return that ring, and then he can do what he likes!”

“Wot? Why?”

“Why? Because he... humiliated me!”

“So?”

“So!? **So!?** **What do you mean so?** ”

“I mean, why do we ‘ave to give it back to ‘im, eh? Just keep it.”

“What?”

“Well, ‘e looked at you an’ you didn’t like it, an’ that’s fair enough, but why give ‘im back ‘is stuff? Just keep it. It’s ‘is own fault fer not treatin’ you right.”

“Why would I want to keep it!? Just looking at it is enough to remind me of what he did! Treating me like some sort of tart – I’m not that kind of girl! Do I look like that sort of girl!?”

“ **No!** ” the two of them said hurriedly. “Nah, ‘e’s the sort that likes ‘ittin’ on all the girls – it ain’t got nuttin’ to do wiv you. That’s why I’m sayin’, ‘e ‘it on the wrong girl, you take ‘is stuff – we could use the extra dosh anyway. Accept wot’s given ya, an’ take wot ain’t! That’s ‘ow we men do stuff, right guv?”

“You keep me out of this!”

“Just keep it” Yangus told her.

“No way!” she snapped. “I cannot stand greasy men like that with their self-satisfied grins and their ridiculous swaggering! Like I said, that self-important sleazeball is getting his cheap ring back whether he likes it or not! He said he lived at Maella Abbey, right? Well it will not be hard to find him! We can just follow his slime trail! Now come on, we are going to the Abbey **right now!** ”

“Ya see guv?” Yangus sighed, spreading his hands helplessly. “That’s why I won’t ‘ave nowt to do wiv birds. I just can’t figure them out.”

“Who can?” Jay agreed, but changed the subject as she whirled on him. “Do we have to go right now?”

“Yes!”

“Really? Right now?”

“Yes! I don’t want to keep that ring a moment longer than I have to!”

“But...”

“ **What!?** Don’t tell me you plan on keeping the ring!?”

“No, no, nothing like that! It’s just...”

“ **What!?** ”

“Well, it’s late...”

“ **And?** ”

“Well, if we leave now, it’ll be dark by the time we get there. And do you really want to go to the Abbey and show that ring so soon after you got it, and at night?”

“...”

“...Well?”

“We return it first thing tomorrow! As soon as it’s light!”

“Of course.”

“I’m not holding onto it a moment longer than I have to!”

“Right, we’ll return it as soon as possible.”

“Yeah, we might as well, I s’pose” Yangus sighed. “’sides, I need ‘im to show me ‘ow ‘e pulled off that trick wiv the cards! Diamond, that was.”

“Yangus, I thought you’d reformed...”

\-----

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter that was significantly re-worked from my first draft; in particular the first page of the old chapter expanded into the previous two chapters, expanding what was essentially summarising character development that I should have spent more time... well... developing. I've also re-written the scene at the Abbey somewhat, cutting down on the 'preaching' and focusing more on the shock the party feel as they enter the Church.  
> I want to emphasise that this is not a typical representation of the Church - hence the party's shock. The reasons Maella Abbey is different is explained by the bartender, so I won't go into further detail here.
> 
> As for the scene at Simpleton, that's mostly the same. I added a little bit of dialogue to help with the transition (note that the bunny girl uniforms are canon with the game, not that anyone ever comments) compared to the last chapter, and I also made a few changes to the game. For starters, Jay gets involved a little bit more (it never made sense to me that he'd just stand and watch as the bar fight starts) and Jessica has more of an impact as well. I feel bad for taking Yangus' big moment (picking up a chair with a customer still in it to use as a weapon) and giving it to the thug they were battling, but I'll make it up to him later. And for those interested, the jaunty piano music continues to play throughout the fight.
> 
> Not much else to say, except that I took out some of the more blatantly obvious descriptors to help the dialogue flow more, and I actually described how Jessica was persuaded to leave things alone for the night and head to Maella the next morning.


	13. Inside the Abbey Walls

“We are going to return that ring right now!”

“Good morning to you too Jessica. I’m well, thanks for asking.”

“I- ...Sorry.”

“It bothers you that much?”

“It bothers me that much.”

“Fine, go over with Yangus. I’ll have breakfast ready by the time you get back.”

“What? Are you not coming with us?”

“What do you need me for? You go take care of things at the Abbey, and I’ll get everything ready so we can leave when you get back.”

“Oh. Okay.” Feeling a little bit chastised, she went to the river to complete the Rites of Cleansing. By the time she was back Jay had woken Yangus and he had done his own Rites, and was now strapping on his armour and getting ready to set out. Jay promised that he would keep the soup on a slow boil for them and would pack away the tents before they got back, and after she assured him she would not be long, they left for the Abbey.

They arrived without major incident, scaring off the monsters that dared to attack them with either a few fireballs or a few hits of Yangus’ club, and strode through the Abbey doors with the morning light. “Good morning pilgrims.” Urgh, it was that monk again. “If the weight of sin bears down upon you, may I suggest a contribution of gold to the abbey? This will please the Goddess and She will grant you an indulgence.”

“What if I give you this instead?” she asked, offering the monk the Templar’s ring.

The monk’s expression darkened and he looked at her disdainfully. “Oh, so you are one of those _-_ ”

Her temper flared, but she kept it under control as she snapped “ **NO!** That is the **point** – I am **not** ‘one of those’, despite whatever you or he might think! In fact, the only reason I did not hurl this **thing** into the river is because I want to make it perfectly clear just how much I am **not** of one those! Is that understood!?”

The monk took a step back in surprise at her ferocity. “You are a Helm?”

“Does it matter?” she snapped, even angrier that his attitude only changed once he thought that she might be someone powerful enough to influence his future.

“No, no, of course not. Um, what are your intentions?”

“My intentions? Have I not already made myself perfectly clear!?”

“My apologies, Lady, but this is sacred ground – I cannot permit any violence to happen under our roof, no matter how justified your grievance.” Oh for the Goddess’ sake, he thought she was going to make him duel for her honour. Well, the idea was tempting, but she had enough decorum not to challenge him in the middle of one of the Holiest Sites in the world!

“I am not going to kill him, I am going to...” Wait, what was she going to do? She had not really considered what she was going to do beyond giving him back the ring as soon as possible. “I am going to give him back his ring.”

“That is all?” the monk said sceptically. Oh come on, even Yangus was looking at her dubiously!

“And I will tell him exactly what I think of him.” They were **still** looking at her suspiciously! But what else was she going to do except... “And... I will set fire to his bed!”

“His bed?” the monk echoed.

“He will not be able to invite any more ladies to his quarters without a bed, right?”

“That is... that is true enough! A most fitting punishment, Lady, the Goddess would approve. Please, follow me.”

Huh, she didn’t usually get such a favourable response when threatening to set fire to something. Well, no matter, it got her what she wanted. She followed the monk out of the chapel and across the courtyard, where they came to the door to the living quarters of the monks and Templars. Inevitably the two Templars they had met yesterday were on guard duty, and they recognised her immediately. And of course, they were not happy to see her.

She let the monk speak first – if he thought that she was a Helm, he would not expect her to announce herself. And indeed, he did not. “The Lady would like an audience with Templar Angelo to return his ring and obtain satisfaction” the monk recited formally. She turned and stared at the monk, and he winced at his poor choice of words.

“I bet she would” one of the Templars snorted, eyeing her disdainfully.

“If it is satisfaction you are after, I am sure we might be of service” the other offered, leering at her. “I think you will find we are much more experienced than that pretty boy.”

To think she had put on her smart black and white dress from home. She sighed and counted to ten, then turned to the mortified monk. “I know I promised not to harm anyone whilst on holy ground, but I have limits.”

“Of course, Lady” the monk stammered. “Sirs, that is not what the Lady is here for! She wishes to return the ring and punish Templar Angelo for his presumption in offering it to her. Please stand aside and let us through!”

“She’s also gonna set ‘is bed on fire” Yangus added helpfully.

“Yangus!” she hissed.

The first Templar raised an eyebrow. “Now **that** is something I would pay good coin to watch. Were you planning to set fire to his bed with him in it, or out of it?”

“I was asked not to kill or actively seek to harm anyone while on holy ground, so he will need to be out of it.”

“Such a pity. Unfortunately Templar Angelo was summoned to Captain Marcello’s office first thing this morning – something about getting into a brawl at the local pub, the disgrace; the Captain will be some time disciplining him. I can take you to his room so you can set fire to his bed though.”

She could not believe she was having this conversation, here of all places. “I appreciate your offer, but I would rather that he be present so he can watch as I tell him exactly what I think of him. Would you be so kind as to take me to Captain Marcello’s office? I can complain to his Captain at the same time.”

“We cannot leave our post, but I am sure the brother would be delighted to” the Templar replied.

“Yes, I would” the monk agreed, grinning.

“Very well, lead the way then.”

The Templars opened the doors smiling unpleasantly and the monk led them through the Templars’ quarters, up the stairs until they arrived outside the Templar Captain’s office. She could just about make out muffled voices from within, but she had no reason to listen in, so she merely took a seat outside and waited.

“I am sure he will not be long, Lady” the monk assured her obsequiously.

“Of course. Thank you for your assistance. I am sure you must be needed back at the chapel however, so please do not let me keep you any longer.” He could not argue against that, so he left at last, leaving her alone with Yangus.

“You know, it’s a shame you ain’t an ‘elm no more, ‘cos yor really good at it.”

“Oh, shush.”

Yangus chuckled but fell silent, simply leaning against the wall as unobtrusively as someone his size could. He had made an effort, wearing the new turban Jay had bought from the merchant yesterday evening along with his leather kilt and smartest jacket, but it was like the old saying – ‘you could take the man out of Pickham, but you could never take Pickham out of the man’.

As they waited the conversation inside the office grew more and more heated, and eventually the door swung open and Captain Marcello stormed out angrily, not even noticing them. He was less important than the man who left after him though, a more familiar figure dressed in a red uniform as opposed to the usual Templar blue – Angelo. He glanced around uneasily, but even though he looked directly at her he did not seem to pay her any attention at all – he did not even recognise her.

Already fuming, she rose from her seat and marched towards him. Before she could say a word however Angelo held up a hand to silence her. But if he thought she was going to remain silent simply because he-

“Can you feel that?”

“Feel wot?” Yangus asked before she had a chance to say anything.

“That malingering sense of evil... That sense that something dreadful is about to happen” Angelo answered, looking round uneasily. For a moment she was thrown. He seemed so serious, so grim, he almost as if he was a completely different person to the smarmy cheat who had caused that bar brawl last night; certainly, he seemed to be showing no interest in her whatsoever. But then she remembered his skill at poker, and how swiftly his manner had changed when he had propositioned her – this was merely another act to lure her in.

“I do not have time for your nonsense!” she snapped. “I do not know what game you are playing, but it is not going to work! I am not some mere fancy to be picked up and discarded according to your whim, and as a Templar you should not be flirting with women at all!”

Angelo stared at her. “What are you talking about?”

“Do not play dumb with me! You know full well what I am talking about! Yesterday evening after the bar brawl you gave me this ring and invited me-”

“ **The ring!** ” Angelo exclaimed, snatching it from her. “Of course, I can still play that card. Listen to me – I need you to do me a favour.”

“Do **you** a favour!? After you propositioned me as if I were some cheap tart ready for a quick tumble in the barn, then all forgotten by morning? You **are** joking, right?”

“Just listen, alright? There’s no time to argue!” Angelo snapped impatiently. “I have this bad feeling that something’s terribly wrong. I’ve felt this sinister presence ever since that jester arrived.”

The retort she had ready died on her tongue. “...Jester?” she echoed, Yangus’ amused smirk as he watched suddenly disappearing.

“Yes, a tall thin man with a staff almost as tall as he was. He arrived earlier this morning and managed to get an audience with the Abbot for midday, but there’s something wrong about him. All I have to go on is this ‘sense’ that something bad is about to happen, but I’m convinced the jester is the source of the sinister air that’s hanging over the abbey. I don’t know what he’s planning to do or why, but I’m worried that the Abbot’s in grave danger. It’s such a pity – normally I’d investigate myself, speak to the Abbot about it, but after last night Marcello’s confined me to my quarters, so now I can’t get to him and none of the other Templars will take me seriously. You’re the only ones that can help.”

“But what can we do? If they will not listen to you, a fellow Templar no matter how wayward, why would they listen to a couple of nameless travellers?” she pointed out.

“You’ve seen the Abbot’s residence, yes?” She nodded. “And you’ve probably seen the obstinate idiots guarding the bridge, right?” She shook her head. “Well, never mind. They’re very stubborn and obey orders to the letter – you won’t get past them. Such a pity, but there is another way onto the island, through a secret passage: Leave the abbey as if you were going to Simpleton, but turn left immediately and follow the riverbank upstream, keeping the abbey in view. You’ll come to a small clearing with the ruins of the old Abbey used before this one. There’s an underground passageway leading from there to the Abbot’s residence. Use my ring to open the way and the path will lead you straight to the Abbot. Go to his residence and make sure he’s safe for me, will you? Please hurry, there isn’t much time.”

She really wanted nothing more than to shove that ring down his throat and make him choke on it for the way he had humiliated her last night with his blatantly lecherous looks and his plainly indecent proposition. However, under the circumstances she was forced to accept the ring from him once again, this time willingly, and promise to do what she could to help him. But by the Goddess it rankled – if this proved to be some new form of humiliation, she would make him pay tenfold!

Angelo thanked her and left, heading towards his room as a Templar guard came to escort him and ensure he obeyed his curfew. Alone with Yangus once again, she whirled to face him. “Did you hear that? A tall, suspicious jester with a long staff! And that phrase, ‘such a pity’ – that’s **his** phrase, and the Templar at the entrance said it too! Dhoulmagus must be here, at Maella Abbey!”

She coloured slightly as she realised Yangus had been with her the entire time and so, yes, he had heard what Angelo had said, and inevitably come to the same conclusion as she had. Still, he didn’t comment on it and simply nodded. “We’d better tell the guv.”

“Right” she agreed, and they left the Abbey as quickly as they could, and if it had not been for her long black skirt getting in the way she would have run all the way back to the campsite.

“All done then?” Jay asked, seeing them come back. “Breakfast is ready, and I put the tents-”

“We have a lead on Dhoulmagus – he’s here at Maella Abbey!”

Jay dropped his ladle into the soup. “ **What!?** Are you sure?”

“You think I would tell you if I wasn’t?”

“Well no, but... **Maella Abbey!?** ”

“Angelo described a sinister jester with a long staff, and the guards said ‘such a pity’.”

“Alright, you’ve convinced me. Where’s he now?”

“He’s waiting for an audience with the Abbot for midday.”

“Alright. Have you told the Templars?”

“What? Um... no.”

“ **No!?** Why not!?”

“Well, you saw how they were yesterday! Do you really think they will believe us?”

“Why wouldn’t they!?”

“The only ‘evidence’ we have is our vision from the tower and Trode’s testimony. Do you really think that will be enough?”

“...We could at least make the accusation.”

“And then what? All Dhoulmagus needs to do is deny it and we are at a stalemate. That then gives Dhoulmagus a chance to escape us once again, and this time he will know we are looking for him.”

“But he must be at Maella Abbey for a reason – you said he asked for an audience with the Abbot?”

“Yes, and Angelo said he was worried about the Abbot’s safety.”

“But the Templars aren’t stopping Dhoulmagus from meeting with the Abbot?”

“Well the only one who’s suspicious is Angelo, and the other Templars are not going to believe **him**.”

Jay looked at her curiously. “But you do?”

“Well...”

“I didn’t see ‘im last time guv, but this time ‘e didn’t look like ‘e was messin’ around” Yangus chimed in. “‘e was real serious like, an’ when ‘e saw the ring ‘e was thrilled ‘e ‘ad a back-up.”

“Wait, ring? Back up?” Jay echoed, looking confused.

“Angelo told us about another way to get to the Abbot’s Manse, through the old abbey ruins to the south. We use his ring to open up the ruins, and then we go through them to reach the Abbot. Once we reach the Abbot we...” She paused; she had not actually thought about what they would do then. “...we wait for Dhoulmagus and confront him before he does anything.”

“...Fine. Angelo can back us up if we’re found at the manse, and there are Templars there to guard the Abbot if we don’t reach him in time.”

“Good, now let’s get going – we have wasted enough-”

“Wait” Jay interrupted.

“ **What?** ”

“First, both you and Yangus need to get changed into your armour – you don’t want to spoil your finest dress, right?” She glanced down at herself. For a moment, she had temporarily forgotten about that. “Then you need breakfast.”

“Breakfast!? We do not have time for that!”

“A few minutes won’t make any difference, but going hungry might – I don’t know where these ruins are, but it doesn’t sound like the trip to the Abbot’s Manse is going to be quick, and even then we’ve got to wait until noon before we can confront Dhoulmagus. While you do that, I’ll let His Majesty know what’s going on and clean up the breakfast things.”

“No need” came Trode’s voice suddenly, making them jump.

“Cor blimey!”

“You **do** realise I have been here the entire time, correct?” Trode said irritably, looking down at them from the wagon.

“Uh, sorry Sire, I thought you were in the wagon” Jay apologised.

“I was, but I came out as soon as I heard Jessica say that we had a lead on Dhoulmagus – the canvas on the wagon is not exactly thick, you know.” Oh, they knew alright – they could hear his snores at night. “And do not worry about the breakfast things – **I** will take care of them. You just focus on apprehending Dhoulmagus before he eludes us once again.”

“Wh- Uh- Sire, are you sure?”

She decided not to waste time listening to the rest, fetching her armour from the wagon and heading for the bushes on the other side of Medea while Yangus simply shrugged off his jacket and changed his turban for his pointed hat. It did not take her long to change as she had grown used to the procedure over the last couple of weeks, but by the time she got back Jay had been sufficiently reassured that King Trode was comfortable with washing up the breakfast things in his stead and was now giving Medea a final check-over.

“Let’s get going!” she said impatiently.

“Eat your breakfast first! You’ll need it” Jay called back, not even glancing her way.

“But we do not have time for-”

“Jessica, believe me when I say I am keener than anyone to see Dhoulmagus brought to justice as soon as possible, **truly** ” Trode told her, gesturing at his appearance. “However, the lad’s logic is correct – if you do not have something to eat now, you may weaken yourself for the fight ahead. It will only take a few minutes.”

“Less if you do it quick” Yangus told her. “Do wot I do.” She watched, and Yangus picked up the bowl and lifted it to his mouth, gulping the soup down as if it were a drink. She sat down and picked up her own bowl gingerly, looking at it suspiciously. Then she lifted it to her mouth...

And promptly choked, spilling it down her front. She heard a snort and shot a glare at the source, but she could not tell whether it was Jay or Medea who had laughed. Trode was looking suspiciously straight-faced as well, and Yangus just sniggered. She slammed the bowl down and quickly wiped down her front with a cloth Yangus handed her while Trode refilled her bowl. After that disaster she picked up her spoon and ate it the normal way.

Finally finished, she stood up and pulled out the thorn whip Jay had bought last night. “ **Now** can we go?”

“Yes, of course.” She looked up to see Yangus and Jay gathered on the far side of the clearing, scale shields strapped on and sword and scythe in hand respectively. “What are you waiting for?” Jay added cheekily.

“I liked you better when you joked less...”

\-----

“Guv! Over ‘ere!”

“Don’t call me that” he muttered, but he jogged through the old ruins to sound of Yangus’ voice.

“’ere it is, on the stone slab ‘ere. See this ‘ole? I reckon that’s where the ring goes.”

“Good work Yangus!” he congratulated. “Jessica, do you have that ring?”

“Here” she told him, fishing it out of her bag and handing it to him. Taking the ring, he inserted the top of it into the small square hole Yangus had pointed out. At first nothing happened, but when he gave it a twist there was a loud rumbling sound.

“Look!” He whirled round to where Jessica was pointing and saw a cloud of dust thrown up at the corner of two crumbling walls. Yangus helped scrape away some of the soil before he continued turning, and eventually a square gap opened up to reveal a set of stairs going into the ground.

“And behold, the ring reveals the way” he proclaimed, then felt embarrassed and handed the ring back to Jessica before she realised. “Just as well we brought those torches. Jessica, could you give me a light?”

“Sure.” Jessica easily created a small flame in the palm of her hands and held it to the oil-soaked and enchanted cloth, setting the torch on fire. “But you know, you can do it yourself now.”

“Yes, but I’m saving my magic – we may need it for healing later.”

Jessica nodded her understanding as they carefully went down the stairs, not wanting to waste any more time after having to spend so long searching for the entrance. “This feels like one of those adventure stories” he murmured.

“Yes” Jessica agreed quietly as they jumped over the first gap in the crumbling stairs. “Descending from the mid-morn light into the inky blackness of a long-forgotten ruin guarded by an ancient order – I loved those stories when I was a child.”

“Yeah, it’s great, eh?” Yangus agreed. “Nothin’ beats breakin’ in to somewhere no-one’s ever bin before an’ gettin’ to take all the good stuff ‘fore anyone else does.”

“Yangus...”

“I mean, gettin’ to **see** all the good stuff ‘fore anyone else does.”

“Better.”

“You know, the air is surprisingly good for somewhere that has been sealed for so long” Jessica commented.

“Well, it’s s’posed to lead to the Abbot’s Manse, right? Mebbe there’s an openin’ that end, or elsewhere in this place” Yangus suggested.

“I suppose that means we should watch out for monsters too” Jay sighed.

“You always ‘ave to watch out fer monsters guv, no matter where you are.”

“Right.”

“Say, how far do these stairs go down anyway?” Jessica asked as he offered her a hand across a particularly big gap in the stairs. Yangus kicked a piece of rubble off the steps and listened.

“Not far” he answered, hearing a thud shortly after. “Wouldn’t like to fall down though.”

“Say, Angelo said these were the ruins of the old abbey, right? Do you think this is the bell tower?”

Jessica looked back up at the spiral staircase they had climbed down. “You know, I think you are right. However, that would mean that the entire abbey is underground... Just how old is this abbey?”

“Must be pretty old for it to be so run down, this place was built to last – just look at the brickwork, those slabs are even bigger than Maella Abbey’s.”

“Well, this **was** Maella Abbey originally. I wonder what happened to this place.”

“Hey guv! Take a look at this!”

“I said don’t- ...Oh wow.” They had finally reached the bottom of the stairs and, going through the door, they found themselves inside the old chapel, still more or less intact. The grand hallway stretched far enough that the torch light couldn’t reach the other end, but the roof was only two stories high as opposed to the newer abbey’s three. There were no windows either, so the chapel must have been a dark place ...unless it had been lit by magic lanterns of course, which would have certainly been possible for an abbey as wealthy as Maella. Then again, the walls were plain, and not just because part of them had fallen in and given way to the bare earth on the other side – even the more well-preserved sections didn’t have even any decorations on the walls. The statues too, the ones that hadn’t been smashed that is, were plain and austere – a far cry from the current Maella Abbey.

He paused only to put the Holy Star back on the remains of the shattered altar before they continued on into the chapel. The light startled a few Drackymas and Flyguys and some attacked, but they were able to drive them off without any difficulty. However when they got to the other side, they found that the exit, or rather the chapel entrance, had collapsed and was completely blocked with rubble and earth.

“So, wot now?” Yangus asked.

He looked around, but he didn’t see any other exit at this end. “Maybe we should go back to the altar – I think I saw a door near the bell tower.”

“You know, when Angelo told us there was a path at the ruins, I thought it would be a tunnel, not something like this!” Jessica complained.

He grinned at her. “It’s pretty cool though, right?”

“Well, yes, I guess. But I would appreciate it a lot more if we did not have to worry about catching Dhoulmagus!”

“Well, that’s fair enough. Still, I’m actually enjoying this a little.”

“Me too. Reminds me of the ol’ days back when I was-”

“Don’t spoil it for me Yangus.”

“Sorry guv.”

“And don’t-”

“Hey, there is another door over there” Jessica interjected, pointing to one of the corners.

“And there” he spotted on the opposite side. “Question is, which one do we take?”

“We do not have time to waste – let’s just pick one and go” Jessica said impatiently. “Left is closer towards the Abbey, correct?”

“...I think so.”

“Then let’s go that way!”

“Okay.” He led the way, ducking underneath the sunken archway and walking through the less well-preserved corridor, large sections of the wall and ceiling giving way to bare earth. The corridor entered a large library full of ancient books as thick as his hand. “Wow. I can’t believe this place is so well preserved.” He glanced at a corner of the library which had collapsed and the bookcases buried in the rubble. “Well, mostly.”

“These books must be centuries old – look how thick they are! And they are so beautiful too!”

“They’ll be worth a lot an’ all – collectors are always after books like these, an’ they’ll give a lotta coin for ‘em too.”

“What? Yangus I thought you had left your bandit days behind you! We are **not** stealing these books!”

“C’mon, it’s not like they’re doin’ anyone any good down ‘ere, eh?”

“...”

“Jay! You are not seriously considering-”

“Well it’s like Yangus says – they’re not going to do much good here!” he said defensively. “These books must have been sitting here for centuries and no-one’s seen them in all that time – we’re the first to be here since... Say, what did happen to this place?”

Jessica looked back at him blankly, so they both looked at Yangus, but he simply shrugged. “Sorry, I didn’t know this place existed ‘til now, so I don’t know nothin’ ‘bout it.”

“It is **Maella Abbey** – surely we must know something about their earlier buildings!?” Jessica exclaimed.

“I know that there were older Abbeys, but I don’t actually know anything about them” he admitted, feeling a little embarrassed. He should know after all, because- “Wait, I know!” He went over to one of the bookcases and started scanning through it, only to find the book he was looking for sitting on the table next to it. It was strange – the way it sat there, an ink bottle and quill laid beside it, it was as if a monk had only put it down for a moment, as if about to come back at any moment. He gave himself a shake and carefully leafed through it until he came to the last page. “All churches keep a history if they can, and for somewhere like Maella Abbey they probably had someone keep a national or world history too. Hopefully the last entry should say why it’s abandoned. Here we are! ...Oh.”

“Wot?”

“I... can’t read it. It’s... not Common Empyrean” he said, his cheeks colouring with embarrassment.

“Let me try” Jessica offered. “Mother always insisted that I learn some of the older dialects, so maybe... Oh, goodness... This is **quite** an old dialect. However... I think I should be able to translate. Give me a moment.”

He stepped out of the way to give her more room, and she looked at the book for a few minutes. “‘The Monstrous Hoard has reached the city. Refugees have been coming in their thousands, but now that the King’s Guard has been defeated many are already beginning to abandon the capital. Our supply of food and treatments’ I think he means medical supplies? ‘have been exhausted, and so many of the refugees are dying that we have had to dispense with the Rites. We can expect no reinforcements after the Seven Kingdoms were defeated so soundly at’ ...I do not know the name, ‘and now the Elvish Sociocracy of Praecantiato has been laid to waste and the Dragovian Stratocracy of Xiana obliterated. All the other nations are engulfed in turmoil following the loss of their leaders and their military, and will offer no aid now that the threat of the Dark One is gone. The City Guard are preparing a holding action, but none of us hold out much hope. All we can do is pray to the Goddess for salvation, and tend to the refugees until the evacuation is complete.’ ...The attack has begun.’ That... That is where it ends.”

They stood there in silence for a moment.

“ **Maella Abbey** had to dispense with the Rites” Jessica whispered. “Dear Goddess, the city must have been in utter chaos.”

“Wot city?” Yangus asked.

“They must mean the capital that used to be here back in the Lost Ages, right? And the Monstrous Hoard, that must mean that entry was from the Demon Wars back in the Time of Troubles. The Abbey must have been abandoned after the fighting, for all those centuries” he murmured. “Just one last quick entry, then cast the preservation spells and seal the door.”

“You know your history” Jessica commented.

“His Majesty was telling me about it the other day. He said that the capital here was so badly hit during the Time of Troubles that it was uninhabited for nearly two centuries, and even then it never really recovered. It’s because of that Butterwick has such a problem with undead, there were so many dead that they weren’t able to administer the Rites before they were raised as-” He broke off, suddenly realising the implications of the shattered altar and damaged statues, and the fact that all the doors were smashed open. “We need to get out of here. **Now**.”

“Right” Jessica agreed, turning to go ...and suddenly screamed.

He spun round to see two skeletons wearing old Templar uniforms and a bunch of old rotting corpses walking towards them. He switched the torch to his left hand and drew his sword as Jessica threw a few fireball at the nearest of the undead monsters. The rags left from their clothes caught fire, and one of the walking corpses staggered into the others, setting them on fire as well, and he suddenly found himself fending off a skeleton as it continued to attack even as it was on fire.

“Jess, no more fireballs!” he yelled, dodging a flaming arm as he slipped past the former Templar’s guard and cut its head off. The body continued to flail around for a few moments, catching him off guard and giving him a nasty blow across the shoulder, so he bashed it to pieces with his shield while Yangus hacked the other skeleton apart with his scythe, reducing them to a pile of broken bones and old rags.

But that still left the five walking corpses, all on fire. Jess cast one of her new spells, the ice shard one, but they just carried on advancing as if nothing had happened. “It’s not working!” Jess cried.

“They don’t feel pain! They ain’t gonna stop unless we do ‘em in good an’ proper” Yangus yelled, taking his scythe and doing just that to the nearest one.

“Lady smile on us” he whispered, cutting the arm off one before hurriedly ramming his shield against its face as it tried to bite him. Jess tried attacking some of the others with her whip, but all it did was attract their attention, so she switched to her dagger and stabbed the closest one in the face, then gave a yelp when it tried to bite her hand. He rammed the one he was facing against a bookcase, stunning it long enough to cut off its head, then slammed into the back of the corpse about to take a chunk out of Jess’ side. Yangus stabbed the other in the back, allowing Jess to focus on the one trying to bite her and cut it down.

“Just as well you insisted we practice hand-to-hand” Jess gasped once the monsters were dead. Or rather, dead again. “Goddess, that came out of nowhere!”

“First time comin’ face to face wiv one o’ ‘em things ain’t ever nice” Yangus sympathised with them as they both did their best not to throw up from the stench and feel of rotten flesh. “But we ain’t got time to ‘ang about – if there’s one o’ ‘em things, then there’s gonna be a whole lot more comin’ our way now they know we’re ‘ere. And zombie types don’t stop for as long as they can sense ya – it only ends when either you or them are dead. Let’s make sure it’s them lot who kick the bucket this time, eh?”

“Sounds good” he said weakly. “Well, as much as I’d like to head for the exit, we’ve got no choice but to continue on.”

Yangus grimaced. “Where the monsters came from, eh?”

“’fraid so.”

“Ah well, lead then way then” Yangus sighed.

He shrugged apologetically, then led the way through the library to the door on the other side. And jumped back with a cry as two mummies covered in ancient bandages from head to toe came lurching out of it. Jess promptly threw a fireball over his shoulder to buy him time ...and hit one of the mummies, turning it into a blazing torch that quickly set the other mummy on fire as well.

“ **Jess! No fire spells!** _”_ he yelled as the mummies staggered towards him, flailing arms covered in burning bandages.

“Sorry, habit!” Jess apologised, backing away from the intense heat as the mummies’ bandages were engulfed in flames even as she lashed at them with her whip. He and Yangus moved to close around her, but as they did something struck him hard on the head, knocking him onto the floor and dazing him.

“Guv!” Yangus yelled, tackling the mummy that had lurched towards him while his guard was down despite the flames and smashing it into a bookcase. He saw the other mummy start to attack Yangus from behind and he tried to get to his feet, only to stagger and fall again as his head was still ringing. Jess managed to catch the mummy with her whip and yank it off balance before it had chance to do any harm, but then it started crawling towards him.

He tried to scramble to his feet, but this time he was brought down by something grabbing his boot. He shook to free his leg from ...a skull!? He glanced at the doorway and saw two more skeletons entering the room, one missing its head – it must’ve thrown it at him. Well, two could play at that – he kicked the skull at the headless skeleton, knocking it over, then stamped on the burning mummy and stabbed it until it stopped moving. Then put out his trousers.

Meanwhile Yangus had taken care of the other mummy, only now the bookcase he’d slammed the mummy onto was on fire. And the fire was spreading. The three of them rushed the two skeletons, smashing them apart and darting through the door before the smoke grew too thick.

And into a corridor filled with walking corpses, mummies and skeletons.

He glanced back at the smoke-filled library behind them, which was quickly going up in flames, then at all the monsters ahead of them and sighed. “Wot do we do guv?” Yangus asked.

“First, don’t call me that. Second...” He tossed his torch to Jess, then levelled his sword at the monsters. “CHARGE!”

The three of them charged, a whirlwind of blades from sword, scythe and dagger, cutting down anything in their path. Fortunately the corridor wasn’t large, so they didn’t have to face more than two at a time and were able to kill the monsters without major injury. That wasn’t to say they got off lightly though – none of the monsters felt any pain, so in the few moments it took to cut them down they were in striking and biting distance, and by the time they reached the end of the corridor both he and Jess had been poisoned. There were more monsters in the room up ahead, so Yangus guarded the doorway while he swallowed some antidote herbs and then started healing Jess’ and Yangus’ wounds.

Then one of the skeletons threw an orb of hatred at Yangus, cursing him just as a walking corpse was about to attack. He actually felt the curse take effect, draining all the strength from Yangus’ body. He cut off the spell as fast as he dared, but he still wasn’t fast enough to get to the walking corpse in time. Fortunately Jess came to the rescue, stepping on his back and leaping at the monster, tackling it to the ground before it had a chance to kill Yangus. Of course, that meant that he had to rescue her from the skeleton before it stabbed her on the floor while she was stabbing the walking corpse, and then there was another skeleton and a couple of mummies. He and Jess worked together, focusing on one monster at a time with one starting the attack and attracting the monster’s attention and the other finishing it off. However there were too many monsters to focus on one at a time, and they began to get surrounded.

Then Yangus was back, the curse having worn off as the skeleton who cast it died, and he ploughed into the monsters, smashing two skeletons and beheading a corpse while he knocked the others out of the way. He and Jess took the opportunity to kill the staggered mummies. One of them threw another curse at him, but it simply fell apart when it hit him and he quickly clove the thing in two. Finally, after another ten or so monsters, the attacks finally stopped.

“Dear Goddess, how many of them are there?” he groaned, panting heavily.

“I dunno, but I don’t wanna stick around to find out” Yangus replied. “Where’s the way outta this place?”

“There used to be an exit over here, but it’s fallen in” Jess told them, picking the torch back up and gesturing to a corridor that ended abruptly in a pile of broken bricks and rocks.

“I think these used to be the living quarters, and we just passed through the Templars’ training room” he explained, taking advantage of the lull to heal Yangus and Jess. “That door probably used to lead outside, but if that’s gone I don’t know where this path to the Abbot’s Manse is supposed to be.”

“I am surprised they would even have a path to the Abbot’s Manse if this place is so badly infested with the undead” Jess commented.

“There better be a path, after all the trouble we’ve bin through” Yangus grumbled.

Just then, he caught sight of something. “Hey, Jess, walk past those stairs again.”

Jess looked at him. “What?”

“Just... walk past those stairs again. Please?”

“Okay” she shrugged, obediently walking past the stairs again. And once again, the flame from the torch she was holding flickered.

“Nice one guv – there’s air comin’ up from there, ain’t there?”

“Looks like it” he nodded. “And you know what that means...”

“There’s an exit down there” Yangus grinned.

“Does that mean we are going deeper into the ruins filled with undead monsters?” Jess sighed.

“’fraid so. But we’re in the living quarters now, and we probably just passed through the old Templar barracks and training area – up ahead will be the dining room and the monks’ sleeping quarters, and after that it’ll probably be the Hospice wing, and then we’ll be back where we started. If the way out here is blocked, then if there’s going to be a path it’ll be down there. And hopefully there’ll be fewer monsters.”

“I suppose. At least it cannot be-” Jess thought better of it and handed him the torch instead, gesturing to him to lead the way.

He took a deep breath, going down the first few steps a little gingerly, but then he heard Yangus and Jessica following him and summoned up his courage, leading the way into the inky blackness. This must be the cellar, the air somehow colder and damper – although that might have been because the floor above had been filling with smoke. He glanced at the torch, watching which way the flame flickered and heading towards the source of the breeze.

The torch had been burning for some time now, and even with the enchantments they probably had a few more minutes before it ran out, so perhaps now would be a good time to light a new one. On the other hand they probably didn’t have much further to go, and it would be expensive to use up one of these torches to only to put it out again a few minutes later. Maybe they should try to keep it going as long as they could, just in case they could do without it. Then again, they **really** didn’t want to be left in the dark... The balance was- Hm? Had Jessica been calling him?

“Yes?”

“Jay...” Jess said in a quiet, strained voice. “I think they were using the cellar as a mass grave.”

...

 **Goddess have mercy!** The floor was covered with corpses! How had he missed that? He clutched at his good luck charm and made several desperate prayers to the Lady.

“...Guv, let’s get out o’ ‘ere ‘fore-”

“ **INTRUDERS!** ”

“Gah!” They whirled round to see a figure in the shadows. He brought the torch closer, and they could see the ragged faded vestments of an Abbot. “Forgive us Father, we were just passing through” he said hurriedly, desperately. “We did not mean to intrude. In the Goddess’ name, let us pass-”

“The Goddess? **THE GODDESS!?** ” the figure raged, stepping further into the light, his ravaged eyeless face contorted into a snarl. He was one of the undead, yet somehow he had kept his sanity. “Why should I care for the Goddess, when **She** does not care for us!? When we needed Her most, **where was She!?** **WHERE WAS SHE!?”**

“I, uh-”

“ **NOWHERE!** Nowhere to be seen! No-one has seen Her ever since She abandoned us after the Great Sorrow! **She has forsaken us!** ”

“No! She said She would continue to protect us from-”

“If She promised to protect us, then where was She when the Demon Lord invaded? WHERE WAS SHE!? People died in their millions, entire kingdoms and continents fell, and She did **nothing!** Only sent Her Sages at the last moment, when everything was already lost! Even Her Messenger disappeared after the Demon Lord’s citadel fell, and we were left alone, and the monster armies free to ravage our world! Oh, my glorious kingdom, my beautiful abbey, my beloved brethren... all gone... Only I remain. But where the Goddess proved faithless, I will remain firm! Where the Goddess abandoned us, I will always protect my flock! And where the Goddess showed weakness, **I will show strength!** You intruders come in here and slay my brethren, and then you ask me in the Goddess’ name to let you go!? To you I will show **no mercy!** NO MERCY! BRETHREN, **ATTACK!** ”

At the undead abbot’s words the corpses around them began to stir, rise up and surround them. “Guv, we need to get outta ‘ere, real urgent like” Yangus hissed. “Where’s the way out?”

He glanced at the torch. “...Other side of the Undead Abbot?”

“Figures...”

Suddenly the Undead Abbot thrust his hand forward and some orbs of black magic hurled towards him. Taken by surprise, he wasn’t able to dodge in time and tried to block with his shield, but it wasn’t enough and he was thrown across the room, the torch shattering in his hand. Goddess save them.

“JESS! FIRE!” he yelled desperately, feeling corpses moving all around him. Jess quickly cast a fireball and he got a brief glimpse of the hoards of undead surrounding them, the Undead Abbot leaping for Yangus. Then everything went dark again, and he heard Yangus cry in pain. Goddess have mercy.

“JESS! MORE FIRE!” he yelled, starting to strike anything within reach with his shield and sword. This time Jess cast fire in a continuous stream rather than a single fireball, spinning round to catch as many as she could, and as the mummies and the corpses caught fire the room began to light up. He suddenly remembered it was a new spell she’d learned for using against groups, and if this didn’t count, he didn’t know what did. Doing his best to remember what she’d told him, he stabbed his sword into a walking corpse’s chest then cast the spell, twisting round and setting all the monsters around him on fire. Then he pulled the sword out of the walking and now burning corpse and kicked it into some mummies, setting them on fire as well. Then he shoved past the undead monsters and fought his way to Jess before she was overwhelmed.

Actually, Jess seemed to be doing pretty well without him – no monster was able to get close as she cast fireball after fireball, killing dozens in an instant. Still he rolled under a lunging corpse and sliced it in half as he moved to cover Jess’ back.

“Thank Goddess you’re here!” Jess gasped. “I’m not sure how long I can keep this up!”

“I’m not either” he replied, coughing from all the smoke. “Where’s Yangus?”

Suddenly Yangus came flying through the crowd of undead and slammed into them, knocking them to the floor. “Cor... blimey” he groaned, and he was startled to see how badly injured he was.

“Yangus! What happened?” he exclaimed, quickly casting some healing spells on the worst wounds.

“Watch out fer the abbot – ‘e’s trouble” Yangus groaned, and suddenly the Undead Abbot appeared from amidst the undead hoard. Jess immediately shot a fireball at him, knocking off his mitre and setting him on fire. However just like the other zombies, he didn’t appear to notice and instead leapt at them with his staff. He blocked with his sword, but the inhuman strength behind the blow threw him to the floor. Jess bought them some time, hitting the Undead Abbot with another fireball, but then a mummy hit her with a cursed orb and Yangus quickly yanked her out of the way before a skeleton had chance to skewer her.

“Quick, this way” he yelled desperately, trying to cut a path through all the monsters. Yangus simply slung Jess over his shoulder and charged, battering aside any monsters in his path until he reached a wall. No time to find a way out, Yangus dropped Jess on the floor and drew his axe and cut down the nearest monsters. He went to join him, but he was hit by the Abbot’s spell again and sent spinning across the floor. He tried to get up, but the Abbot hit him again, and again, and again, and by the time he’d recovered he was on the wrong side, dozens of monsters between him and Yangus, and completely surrounded. The thick smoke from all the blazing monsters made it impossible to see where Yangus and Jess were or how they were doing, and the noxious fumes were making him dizzy. And he’d lost his sword.

Goddess help him.

In desperation he grabbed his knife from his bag. It wasn’t actually meant to be used as a weapon, but under the circumstances it would do. And if he lived, he’d start carrying a proper dagger with him at all times, just in case.

He thrust a mummy between him and the Undead Abbot, then ran for the nearest wall, attacking any monster that got in his way with his knife. He made it past nine before one of them bit his hand as he was stabbing it, and the pain was so intense he dropped the knife. Another corpse tried to attack him from behind, so he slammed his shield into its face, but then a mummy simply tackled him while he was unable to defend himself. He fought it off, kicking and punching it until it let go, but the flames left him badly scorched and- His coat was on fire! HIS COAT WAS ON FIRE!

The Undead Abbot caught up with him as he was trying to put out the flames, hitting him round the head with his oak staff and knocking him to the floor. He scrabbled away, giving up putting the flames out and ripping off his jacket, only for his sleeve to be trapped under his shield straps and the boomerang on his back.

Wait, his reinforced boomerang! How had he forgotten about that!?

He quickly grabbed his boomerang and used the newly sharpened edges to cut off his burning jacket and throw it around the Abbot’s head, buying him a precious few seconds. “Munchie, run!” he called, and his pet harvest-mouse jumped out of the pocket and ran for cover. Using the boomerang as a makeshift dagger, he cut Munchie a way out of the pack of monsters and then-

He was hit by another blast of the Abbot’s dark magic and sent crashing against a wall. Dazed, he tried to stagger to his feet, only to be knocked back to the floor by the Abbot’s staff, his boomerang pushed just out of reach. He literally had nothing left. Goddess help-

“The Goddess cannot help you now, boy” the Abbot hissed. “She will not, She has no interest in this world anymore. Can’t you see that!?”

“No, I believe in Her” he managed to gasp out, only enraging the Abbot further.

“Why? Do you not see what happened to me and my brethren!? We were Her flock, serving at the very birthplace of Her Church, the Most Holy of Holy Sites, and she did nothing to protect us! She abandoned us! And She will abandon you!”

“No, She won’t. I may die, but She will never abandon us, no matter what.”

“And do you expect Her to Help you now?” the Abbot demanded. “There is nothing, **nothing** that she can do to-”

“ **GUV!** ” Yangus came barrelling out of the smoke, knocking three corpses over as he slammed into the Abbot with his axe.

“That’ll do” he grinned.

“Jay!” He looked up, and Jess tossed him his sword as Munchie came running back to him. He grabbed hold of his boomerang and threw it past Jess, hitting the two corpses trying to flank her on either side, then slid it back into its holster. Jess stabbed another undead corpse, but then a skeleton hit her with its skull and knocked her to the floor. He blew it apart with a fireball, then picked up his sword as he and Jess helped each other back to their feet and limped away from the last of the undead.

“I’m nearly completely out of magic” Jess told him, firing one last fireball.

“Me too” he coughed, patching himself with some medicinal herbs.

“ **WHY!?** ” the Undead Abbot wailed, now missing an arm and leaning heavily on his staff, panting heavily. “ **WHY!? WHY DID THE GODDESS ABANDON US?** ”

“Are you certain she did?” Jess asked.

“ **Look at us!** Does it **look** like we are under Her protection!?”

“Aren’t you misunderstanding something? She said that we would never be at the mercy of the Eternals again – She never said she would protect us from all harm” he pointed out.

“What happened here was a tragedy, but does that mean She abandoned you?” Jess continued. “She never said She would be able to save everyone, not even when She still walked among us. But is not the fact that you are here now, still able to make your own choices, proof enough that She is protecting us? Or are you now in the service of another?”

“No.” The Undead Abbot sunk to his knees. “But then... I cast the spell... and turned us... into this. Does that mean... this torment... this suffering... is because of me? No... it is worse than that. Blinded by my own grief and rage, instead of burning my brethren in accordance with the Rites, I turned us all into these undead abominations, cursed to wander these halls without respite, neither dying nor living, just existing in eternal limbo. I even removed my brethren’s free will just as the Ageless did, even as I arrogantly wailed at the Goddess for not protecting us. Goddess forgive me” the Abbot wailed, prostrating himself on the floor.

“The Goddess is always willing to forgive those who are truly sorry” he said quietly.

The Abbot raised his head and looked at them with his missing eyes. “Oh... Most Wonderful Goddess... You did not abandon us after all... You sent these servants to release us. Thank you.”

Suddenly Undead Abbot’s skeleton fell apart, the flames suddenly engulfing it until there was nothing left but dust. Then a breeze from up ahead blew the dust away, leaving only a broken staff in its wake.

“Guv, wot just ‘appened?” Yangus asked quietly.

“I don’t know. ...What was meant to happen, I guess” he answered, clutching his good luck charm and saying a prayer of thanks and praise to the Goddess.

“Well, I don’t know about you guys, but I would like to leave now” Jess said after a long pause.

“That sounds like the best idea we’ve had all day” he agreed.

“That breeze came from over ‘ere guv” Yangus gestured. Picking up Munchie and putting him in his undamaged pocket, he followed after Yangus as Jess picked up the broken staff and wrapped it in a few smouldering bandages, turning into a makeshift torch. They followed the breeze to a hole in the wall at the back of the cellar, then without any further delay they entered the tunnel that gradually went deeper and deeper. The tunnel was wet and dark, small rivulets of water running down the edges of the wall in places, but after everything they’d just been through it didn’t bother them as much as it might’ve done.

After a little while they spotted a light up ahead, which was just as well because their torch was beginning to run out. It turned out that marked the end of tunnel, as it abruptly came to a sharp stop with some steep steps leading the way up to the source of the light. Too steep for the undead monsters that had infested the old abbey, after using the last of his magic to cast a few healing spells they were able to haul themselves up the stairs and shift the monument that lay over the entrance. Finally climbing out of the ruins, they simply lay back on the grass for a few minutes and stared at the sky while they recovered from their hard slog from the abbey.

“Jay?” Jess said eventually.

“Yes?” he replied.

“When I next see Angelo, I’m going to kill him.”

“I’ll help.”

“Yeah, an’ me an’ all.”

“Thanks guys.” There was another long pause. “Say, you remember we did all that so we could keep watch for Dhoulmagus, right?”

“Gah. What’s the time?” He glanced up at the sun. “A little while past midday... Angelo said midday, right?”

“Yes, but he did not give an exact time” Jessica admitted.

“Well, if yer gonna watch a jester, when d’you want ‘im?” Yangus pointed out, getting to his feet.

“...Just after lunch” he realised.

“Right. So we’d better get on wiv it, eh?”

“I suppose” he sighed, picking himself back up and staggering a little until he got his balance back. As he got up, he noticed what the monument said – ‘For those who fell during the Demon Wars – May the Goddess grant them rest.’ He bowed before the monument, Yangus helping him place it back where it had been, and said a small prayer for the Undead Abbot and his brethren who had all died so horribly, not even given the proper Rites after their faithful service. Hopefully now they had finally found peace.

They found themselves in the back garden of the Abbot’s Manse, in a small memorial plot where stones had been erected in memory of particularly famous abbots, and slowly crept up the side of the house. There was no-one around, as they expected, so they peered through the windows into a well-furnished reading room filled with books ...and four Templars unconscious on the floor.

“What the-” he exclaimed, racing round to the front door and bursting into the room, no longer worried about being spotted – if Dhoulmagus was already here, they didn’t have time to waste.

“Guv, the blood’s still fresh – Dhoulmagus were ‘ere real recent-like.” Then they heard a noise from upstairs. “...I reckon that’s ‘im” Yangus said quietly, all briefly frozen into silence. Then they ran up the stairs into the abbot’s private rooms, but there was no sign of anyone. With the sight of the unconscious Templars still fresh in their minds they knew Dhoulmagus had to be somewhere, so they ran through the rooms and up another flight of stairs to the very top of the house. Racing up the ornate stone staircase, they burst into what was obviously the abbot’s bedroom.

And there was Dhoulmagus, floating over the abbot’s bed.

They stared for a second, and as if sensing their presence Dhoulmagus turned and smiled at them with an unpleasant grin. He was still wearing that red and purple jester’s outfit, the dark colours standing out against his unnaturally pale skin. With his gaunt figure and unnaturally pale skin he looked like scariest jester he’d even seen – easily enough to give kids nightmares, and that was before Dhoulmagus had started murdering people. But no more! He gripped his sword and-

Dhoulmagus suddenly vanished.

They stared at where the Dhoulmagus had been, unable to believe their eyes. He ran to the Abbot’s bed and looked around, but there was simply no sign of him – it was as if he’d never been there. And they had been so close!

“Hmm, what a sinister presence lingers in the air.” The Abbot suddenly stirred and sat up, blinking himself awake and looking rather confused. He was a small man only made smaller by age, heavily wrinkled and his long hair pure white. He also had a large moustache, so large it drooped down to his waist, but both his moustache and his hair were clean and carefully brushed. But it was his eyes that were his most distinctive features, a bright piercing blue that twinkled, eyes that had lost none of their power. The Abbot turned those eyes on him now, looking slightly surprised but by no means concerned. “Oh, hello. Can I help you?”

“No Father, I-”

A group of Templars burst in and, seeing them, charged and knocked them to the ground, quickly tying their hands behind their backs and hauling them back to their feet.

“Good Heavens, what on Empyreus is going on!?” the Abbot stuttered, rising to his feet.

At this the Templar Captain came in and walked over to the Abbot, kneeling humbly before him. “Abbot Francisco, Captain Marcello at your service, as always. Are you quite alright?”

“Yes, yes, I am fine. I had just retired for a small nap after lunch and woke a few minutes ago. Now, what is all this about?” Abbot Francisco asked, gesturing to where they were tied and gagged.

“There has been a breach of security. Someone broke into the Abbey and several guards have been seriously wounded.”

“ **What!?** ”

“I feared you were in danger, so I came immediately. And sure enough, we caught these criminals in your chambers” Marcello finished, glaring at them. “They have been loitering round the abbey since yesterday. It seems that we were just in time to stop them. I thank the Goddess that you are safe.”

“These children? No, that simply is not possible” the Abbot told him.

“Father, they were caught **red-handed** in your chambers” Captain Marcello protested. “There was no-one else in the building or the abbey. They were loitering outside yesterday and were here earlier this morning. They must have been planning their attack. There is no other explanation.”

“But look in their eyes” Abbot Francisco told Marcello softly, walking over to them. “It is said that someone’s eyes are a window into their soul. If you look you can see that their hearts are pure; they would not try to murder me. Let them go, they are innocent.” The Abbot turned to him and smiled at him like a kindly grandfather. “Go in peace child. Have no fear, you will not be harmed. Know that the Goddess is always watching over you as your story unfolds, and eagerly awaits the day that you may present the completed volume to Her in the Heavens above.”

“But...Very well” Marcello sighed, but after a moment’s pause a crafty smile began to spread across his face, quickly wiped away before the Abbot turned back to him. “I see that these travellers are injured. We should let us treat their wounds before we send them on their way. And while we heal them, we can ask them what they were doing here in your residence – at the very least let us establish that.”

“Oh Marcello, you are such a worrier” the Abbot chortled softly, giving him a fond look. “Very well, if you must. But do not take too long about it – the day grows old, as do I. I am sure they have places they need to go.”

“Thank you, Father. I will see to it straight away. Please rest, leave this to me” Marcello said softly, bowing low to the Abbot before turning to the three of them. “Shall we go?”

\-----

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this is another chapter that has undergone radical revision. Mainly because more than ten pages of this chapter were covered in three paragraphs in my original. That was because I skipped the ruined abbey apart from a summary, as I felt it outdid the story's climax in the next chapter. That and there was a lot of stupid humour which I (quite rightfully, looking back) thought should be cut out. The main gag remains, but is now treated more seriously and so matchs the tone of my story better.
> 
> For those familiar with the game, you may notice I made one minor and two major changes. The minor is that Jay doesn't go with Jessica to the Abbey to return the ring. This actually doesn't matter all that much, as the player character doesn't say or do anything in most of the cutscenes. Given how Jay symbolically shook the dust off his clothes the last time he left the abbey, he really doesn't want to return for what he sees as a rather trivial thing (just throw the ring away already!) and is more focused with preparing to continue their search for Dhoulmagus; Jessica doesn't need him to hold his hand, and the plot doesn't have to require him to move forward, which I only belatedly realised.  
> You'll see I took the opportunity to address a flaw in the logic of this chapter (which I didn't spot until I wrote it), such as 'why not tell the heavily armed and well trained Templars that you think their guest is a murderer and is going to try and kill the abbot'. I mean, that is what they are there for, to protect the abbot, right? Well, here they have an answer, but it's flawed logic - basically the party was just stupid. On the other hand given the personal nature of their quest they may not have felt happy with leaving it to others, but they decided to take things into their own hands telling no-one but Angelo. Such logic always ends well. And, well, Angelo could do that, right?
> 
> The major changes both concern the ruined abbey. Point one was that I couldn't work out the old abbey's layout. I mean, sure, I have the in-game map, but how was the Abbey built? What were the rooms for? Anyway, I took the easy option and just designed my own - if we go off the 'new' Maella Abbey, it's built in a square with a courtyard in the middle (now gone of course), with the chapel at the front and the living quarters in the back, a hospice on the left and a library on the right, and a cellar below. Naturally this means that the route the party takes changed.  
> The far bigger change is the history of the abbey. In the game I believe the old abbey was abandoned after plague struck and killed all its inhabitants. To me that seemed rather extreme given the setting - in a world filled with monsters, you do not give up well-built and fortified buildings unless they are completely destroyed or considered cursed. Plague might be enough to make people consider a building cursed, but as I've made Maella the birthplace of the Church it would never be abandoned no matter what. So I made the circumstances for abandoning the abbey a little more extreme - the abbey and the nearby city were destroyed by a monster army, and the entire region abandoned by humans for centuries. By the time humans come back, the abbey has been desecrated and is in ruins and they want to make a new start. It also explains why Maella Abbey is now on an island - more easily defensible. And it gives all those undead monsters a much more tragic air.
> 
> Please don't tell me the monsters in the ruined abbey aren't Mummies - I know they're Mummy Boys, but the name was ruining the tone I was going for, and it's not like the party were paying that close attention anyway - Trode will correct Jay later. Similarly Zombies are Walking Corpses and Skeletons (I try to use the right name where possible). I decided the Skeletons represented the slain Templars, the Walking Corpses represented the monks, and the Mummy Boys were patients from the hospice (wrapped in bandages, not embalmed).


	14. The Abbey’s Heart

“Now look ‘ere, we ain’t done nothin’ wrong!” Yangus yelled, banging his fists against the table. They were sitting in a small stone room behind a wooden table. Their hands and feet were chained with anti-magic manacles. They had been stripped of their meagre possessions, all but their weapons placed on another table in the corner. Even Munchie had been locked up in his own separate cage. Night had fallen. They had been here several hours already, and it looked like they would be there many more. Needless to say, their wounds had not been healed.

They were in one of the old torture chambers underneath the Abbey. They’d once been used against ‘heretics’ until the Goddess Herself had condemned the practice and they had been abandoned. He’d heard they were used as prison cells for badly behaved pilgrims or to discipline Templars, but he’d never expected to be put in one himself. But here was, with Captain Marcello himself sitting opposite them asking question after question, demanding to know how they’d managed to break into the Abbey and why they’d attacked, and ordering them to confess that they’d tried to kill the Abbot.

“We already told you” Jess added angrily, eyes blazing. “It was your man **Angelo** who told us to protect the Abbot! What right have you to keep us here?”

“What right?” Marcello echoed. “The right given to me by the Goddess to protect the Abbot, the Abbey and the Church. That’s what right I have to hold you here.”

“But the Abbot told you to let us go!” he pointed out.

“The Abbot is too forgiving” Marcello dismissed. “If you’re so innocent, then who attacked my men? I, however, am not so forgiving. You won’t fool me, so don’t try. Now tell me what you were planning or I’ll make you confess in the-” He was cut off by a knock out the door. He scowled at the interruption and glared angrily at the door. “Who is it?”

“You sent for me, Captain?” a familiar voice answered smoothly.

“Come in! I have a question for you” Marcello began as Angelo entered and closed the door behind him. “But there’s something else first... We’ve just arrested these intruders in the Abbot’s residence. They were trying to kill him. They overpowered and gravely wounded four of my men.” Angelo looked at them and gave a low whistle. Marcello slowly turned and glared, but Angelo took no notice. “Very well, the problem is this: My guard is watertight, I make sure of that. There is **no way** for an outsider to get inside the abbey. No way that is, unless they have inside help... and these three came through the old abbey ruins. And would you believe it? When we searched their possessions, we found this ring!” Captain Marcello declared, pulling out the ring Angelo had given them. “Templar Angelo! Where is your ring? Show it to me now ...if you have it.”

There was a pause as Angelo stared at the ring and Marcello stared levelly at Angelo, searching for a flicker of emotion, whether guilt, worry, surprise or horror. There was none. Everyone was silent, all staring at the two Templars. The tension was unbearable.

Then suddenly Angelo laughed. Everyone stared at him incredulously as he snatched the ring from Marcello. “Phew, it’s turned up. Thank the Goddess! I’d thought I’d lost it for good this time!”

“ **What?** ” Marcello spat in disbelief.

“I lost it yesterday at pub after that brawl you heard about. Someone stole it from me while I was distracted by the fight. And it looks like they’re about to learn that crime doesn’t pay!” Angelo added with slow satisfaction, giving them a brief contemptuous look as he pocketed the ring.

“ **Stole** it? Wot?” Yangus yelled, banging his fists on the table again. “You little rat, after all we did fer ya, you gonna ditch us now!?”

“Why would we take it? We would have no use for a ring like that!” Jessica snapped. “What good would it do if we were not told how to use it? The only one who could have told us is your man Angelo – he’s set us up!” She turned her furious gaze on Angelo, and if looks could kill he would have dropped dead that instant. “I should have known better than to believe a single word from the mouth of a filthy cheat like you!”

“I have nothing further to say; you can find me in my chambers” Angelo said dismissively, ignoring their furious looks and simply walked out without a backwards glance.

“Wait, we’re not done here!” Marcello called after Angelo, but the traitor had already gone, the sound of his steps fading away down the corridor.

He stared after him, stunned by Angelo’s callous betrayal. Were all his words of a sinister feeling, saying the Abbot was in danger, a lie? What sort of Templar was he, to abandon them like this? After all they’d done! He should’ve known better, given how Angelo had acted at the bar, but he’d assumed he wouldn’t lie about something like that! He’d been a fool; they should’ve just gone to the Templars and told them about Dhoulmagus in the first place, and then they could’ve avoided all the trouble in the abbey ruins as well.

“Fine, I’ll deal with **him** later” Marcello muttered darkly, before turning his attention back to them. “But first: You’ve wasted enough of my time. Don’t try my patience. I want answers! What did you plan to do to the Abbot? Confess!” he yelled, slamming his fists against the table.

“‘ow many times ‘ave we gotta tell you, eh?” Yangus yelled back, also slamming his fists against the table. “We ain’t got nothing ta confess! Yer man Angelo told us ‘e thought there was summink suspicious ‘bout that jester, an’ asked us to ‘ave a look. **‘e** was the one who gave us the ring, an’ told us ‘ow to get through the ruins. You want a confession – get ‘im to admit ‘e gave us the ring!”

“Do you really expect me to believe that?” Marcello snarled. “Do you take me for a complete cretin? I have three witnesses who have confirmed that you had the ring first thing this morning, not minutes after dawn had broken. I did not see you when I left my office, and Angelo was taken straight to his quarters, so you could not have spoken to him then, and you have no witnesses to your conversation after the pub brawl. Not one strand of your argument holds water!”

“He gave me the ring at the pub yesterday evening – I believe that arrangement of his is well known” Jess said contemptuously. “However when I came this morning to return the ring and report his behaviour, and he said we would need it to protect the Abbot.”

“And you believed him? Just like that?” Marcello said disbelievingly.

“As we already told you, we were already in pursuit of the jester as he is suspected of murder – we were trying to protect the Abbot, not to harm him!”

“Ah yes, the deaths of Guildmaster Rylus and Helm Alistair, two most respected gentlemen of great status – and you say **you** have been sent to avenge them?”

“We are an advance party” he said indignantly. “Trodain has been petitioned for troops, but since it would take so long for the Royal Guard to arrive we left on our own accord.”

“Without any proof as to who their murderer or murderers were.”

“We didn’t think we’d need it – we’d just confront Dhoulmagus and that would be that.”

“...Are you really that simple? Or do you just expect me to believe anything you say.”

“It’s the truth! What more do you-”

“I want you to stop treating me like a fool!” Marcello bellowed, his head ringing from the unexpected blow that almost knocked him off the bench.

“Oi! Leave off the-”

“You be quiet!” Marcello snapped, back-handing Yangus. “You may not be from Simpleton, but you certainly act like one! And unless I am very much mistaken, you come from Pickham. Don’t deny it – your accent gives you away! And you can stop with this ‘guv’ nonsense! I can tell the real ringleader of this sordid little group. How you got involved in this I don’t know, but your ‘patron’ will not be able to protect you from the consequences of your assault on our Abbey!”

“For the last time, we didn’t attack the Abbey!” Jess yelled. “Just ask your men when they regain consciousness, and they’ll tell you-” Marcello slapped her across the face, and they all stared at him disbelievingly.

“That’s right – it doesn’t matter who you are, your status won’t protect you now” Marcello grinned wickedly, misunderstanding their shock. “Now, why don’t you tell me what you were up to.”

“But we’ve already told you everything!” he cried. “There’s nothing left to explain! We thought Templar Angelo would-”

“How long will you persist in this ludicrous line of defence?” Marcello roared back, punching him in the gut. “You’re only making it worse for yourselves!”

“We can’t tell you anything else unless we make it up! There’s nothing else to say!” he wheezed.

“So you want to play it the hard way. Fine, I can do that” Marcello told them, then slammed his head against the table. His vision went black for a minute, and for a while he couldn’t understand what was being said, but gradually it came back into focus.

“-an it don’t matter wot you do, our ‘story’ ain’t gonna change ‘cos it’s the truth!”

“Let’s see how long it takes until you change your tune – I can be very persuasive.”

“You do not need to be persuasive!” Jess snapped. “Just wait for your men to wake up – **they** will be able to tell you who attacked them!”

“And let you make your escape while we wait? I think not” Marcello scoffed. “You will answer my questions now, and you’re not going anywhere until you answer to my satisfaction. Now, from the beginning, how-” A knock came at the door and a templar guard entered. “What is it now?”

“We sealed the entrance to the old abbey and searched the area at your command captain, and found a suspicious monster loitering outside” the Templar reported.

“What? A monster? What kind of monster?” Oh no...

“I think it best if you see for yourself sir” the guard replied, turning to the door and calling outside “Bring it in!”

Another guard entered, holding a small green wrinkly monster dressed in a brown cloak which was squirming in his grasp and flailing his small fists about angrily, to little avail. “Ouch! What the devil do you think you are doing!? I command you to let go of me at once!” a familiar voice cried imperiously. The guard smirked and threw him onto the table in front of Marcello, who stared at it with a mixture of surprise and disgust, pulling away from it. “This is despicable!” the monster yelled, jumping back to his feet and shaking his fist in anger. “You did that deliberately! How **dare** you treat me like this!? This is an **outrage!** ” There was no doubt about it. It was King Trode.

As soon as they’d heard his voice the three of them did their best to shrink into the shadows, no easy task when in the centre of a small room, tightly bound and any move they made likely to draw attention. Jess was looking rather uncomfortably to her right, avoiding eye contact, while Yangus turned to the door and started picking his nose. He was just looking at the floor, desperately praying that His Majesty would realise the situation and not show any familiarity with them. After all, it was obvious that they were under arrest, and any familiarity with a monster would merely make the situation a whole lot worse.

“Good Goddess, what happened to you three!? Why are you here!?”

Damn.

Marcello laughed triumphantly, grabbing hold of the King by his smock and, keeping him at arm’s length, said “So this monster is a friend of yours then? So much for your **pure** hearts!”

“What the devil is wrong with you? Unhand me at once, you insolent ruffian!” cried King Trode. “Don’t just sit there lad, get him off me!” He held up his hands to show that they were bound, and too late the King began to realise what was happening.

Marcello threw the King to the floor, causing him to bounce painfully on the stone tiles. “So, you’re in league with the monster!” Marcello continued, getting faster and louder as he ‘pieced things together’. “You may have deceived Abbot Francisco but you don’t fool me! It was the monster who ordered you to steal the ring and infiltrate the abbey, was it? Thought you could scare people by killing the Abbot, did you? Make them question their faith? And then move in and take control I suppose. **You cursed heathens!** Take these monstrosities to the cells!” he ordered, before turning back to them as a sinister smile spread across his face. “Come dawn tomorrow, I will have you tortured. Perhaps then you will realise the gravity of the sins you have committed.”

They all went pale, staring at him in horror as the Templars led them out of the room none too gently. Down the corridor they could see an iron maiden and a rack, and a table covered with nasty-looking torture instruments. “Until sunrise then. Sleep well – I know I will” Marcello mocked, waving cheerily as they were taken to their cell.

Goddess help them.

\-----

It was now near midnight. They were in a cell beneath the abbey. Unsurprisingly, none of them could sleep.

Jay was pacing the cell trying to think of a way out. Yangus was rattling the cell doors, futilely protesting their innocence. Trode was hunched in a corner, probably fretting about Medea – either the Templars had found her or monsters had, and they weren’t sure which was worse. As for her, she was curled up in a ball in the opposite corner.

She had thought herself brave, willing to face anything, but she had never in her dreams imagined she would find herself in such a situation. She had heard stories of course, who had not? Tales of the Inquisition were legend. But that was just it – they were **legend**. The Church’s Inquisition had been rapidly disbanded after the Goddess Herself had condemned the practice, personally killing their leader and **vaporising** their headquarters and everyone in it. Torture was outdated, barbaric, primitive – it was supposed to be a thing of the past! So why was there a torture chamber here, at what was supposed to be the birthplace of the Church, one of the three Holiest of Holy Sites?

She hated this stupid abbey. She supposed that was practically heresy in itself, but she could not help it. The way they had treated them when they had first arrived, the way that back-stabbing red-clad devil had propositioned her, the way he had tricked her into doing what he asked the next morning, the fact they had a zombie-infested ruin underneath their own supposedly holy abbey, the way the Templar Captain had been convinced of their guilt before they even had a chance to explain themselves, the way Trode had dropped them in it, and the way Yangus kept rattling those **thrice-cursed cell doors**! How was she going to avenge her brother from in here!? Dhoulmagus was getting away, and there was nothing they could do to stop him! Goddess help them, they probably weren’t going to leave here alive... And Dhoulmagus would go free, free to kill another-

“Stop that!” she yelled as Yangus started rattling the cell doors again. “Have you not realised yet it won’t do any good!? They already believe we are guilty! Shouting about it won’t change a thing!”

“Well ‘cuse me fer not wantin’ to jus’ roll over an’ die!” Yangus snarled back. “I ain’t the sharpest tool in the box, but I ain’t gonna give up ‘til I’m dead! It ain’t gonna end like this, I won’t ‘ave it!”

“Well good for you, but can you at least try something else!? It isn’t doing anything except giving me a headache! **And will you stop pacing Jay!?** It’s getting on my nerves!”

“I’m trying to think of a way out” Jay replied testily “and I think better walking.”

“Well, you’ve been at it for hours now! What have you come up with?”

Seeing them all looking at him, Jay gulped. Even now he still struggled with the idea of being the leader, whatever Trode said about Jay merely being his retainer. However he sucked up his courage and started, slowly and haltingly, still pacing and fidgeting, but he started nonetheless.

“I don’t have much” he admitted straight away. “Basically, there’s only two ways we’re getting out of here free, and neither of them are within our power to control. I’ll get to them in a bit, but I’ll start with what won’t work first.

“We’re in a stone cell below ground, on an island in the middle of a river, so there’s no way we can break out through the walls or the floor because all we’d meet is water – the only way out is through the door, right?” They nodded. “Judging from the way Yangus has been rattling that thing all night, it’s well-built and solid, so we can’t break out of it. That means we need to get them to open it.

“But they think that we already overpowered four guards after fighting our way through zombies in the abbey ruins, so they’re unlikely to take any chances. That means there’s probably going to be several well-armed and alert Templars escorting us to the torture chambers to make sure we don’t escape. Even if we get past them, the exit goes through the Templars’ living quarters and we’d have to fight our way out of there as well. As the way to the secret passage will be heavily guarded, we’ll either need to fight through them and look as if we’re trying to kill the Abbot, or escape through the pilgrim’s entrance and avoid all the monks and pilgrims who’ll try and stop us. Even if we manage that, and it’ll be a miracle if we do, we’ll look guilty and be hunted down as heretics until we’re captured again and tortured.”

“So what you are saying is that escape is out of the question” she stated.

“Exactly” Jay nodded. “But on the other hand, all the evidence points towards us, and we have no-one to back up our story except the Princess, who can’t talk, and that Templar, who’s already betrayed us. In any case our story is too far-fetched for anyone to believe even though it’s the truth, so they’ll continue to torture us even if we ‘confess’ everything. And if we make a false confession we’ll be condemned as heretics and put to death.”

“So what exactly is our way out of this mess?” asked Trode impatiently. “You said there were two options.”

“Yes. One – that **traitor** _,_ Angelo, suddenly has a change of heart and admits he asked us to protect the Abbot.”

“And pigs might fly” she said bitterly.

“Yeah, it’s not going to happen. So the only other way we have a chance of getting released is if those Templars Dhoulmagus attacked wake up before dawn and tell everyone it wasn’t us. Otherwise...”

“So, you’re saying it’s hopeless” she said bluntly.

“Not exactly but... It’s just that, I, uh...Yes I guess I am” Jay finished hopelessly, sinking against the wall, defeated. Goddess blast it, that hadn’t been her intention!

“Well thank you for your brilliant contribution” Trode said sarcastically. “You have been most helpful.”

“Oi, lay off the guv!” Yangus snapped at Trode. It was a measure of Jay’s despair that he didn’t even bother correcting him. “I don’t see you doin’ anythin’. In fact, you’re the one who got us in this mess in the first place!”

“Me?” said Trode in an outraged tone.

“Yeah, you. They’d nuffink on us ‘til you arrived. If you’d kept your gob shut we could’ve got outta ‘ere, but you just ‘ad to talk to us didn’t ya?”

“That wasn’t your best move Sire” Jay agreed.

“What do you mean, they had nothing on you? From what you told me they arrested you in the Abbot’s chambers, and Dhoulmagus nowhere in sight! By the time I was ‘brought’ here it was **already** too late!” Trode protested. “Besides, the only reason I was captured was because I went looking for you! You took such a long time that I wondered what had happened to you, so I ventured to the old abbey to take a look and see what I could find out. When I saw all the smoke coming from the ruins I feared the worst and raced to help, only to be seized by that Templar oaf and brought here.

“And how could I know you had been arrested for attempted murder? It was not as if I was given much opportunity to get a good look at the situation. I thought that you would just capture Dhoulmagus and that would be the end of it! I never dreamed that you might be in any danger in Maella Abbey, or that Templar of yours would abandon you! For all I knew your wounds had been obtained from the fight with Dhoulmagus, and the Templar Captain was thanking you for your service.”

“We were manacled to the table and the floor!” she snapped. “And besides, all our weapons had been taken from us and our belongings laid out on a separate table, including Jay’s apple! Even Munchie was put in a cage!”

“Poor Munchie, he must be so frightened – did you see how roughly they handled him?” Jay said, but they all ignored him.

“Supposing for a moment that I had not said anything and, for some unimaginable reason, the Templar Captain decided he made a mistake and let you go despite the fact that he had already held you all afternoon without any evidence – what would happen to me?”

“To you?”

“Yes, me” Trode repeated. “May I remind you that my current guise is most often mistaken for a monster – and what do Templars do to monsters?”

“Well...”

“Precisely. My overriding concern as I was being escorted to the Abbey was to make contact with you all somehow so that you could facilitate my release or if necessary my rescue before I was summarily killed! I say again – I never dreamed that you would be arrested as well!”

“That’s a good point” Jay agreed.

“What do you mean ‘it’s a good point’ – he was worried for his own life, and by trying to save it he doomed us as well! How is that-”

“Belt up, someone’s comin’!” Yangus hissed suddenly. They jumped to their feet and tensed, ready to fight despite Jay’s gloomy prediction of the outcome. Sure enough, they could hear footsteps coming down the stairs towards their cell. They drew closer until a familiar figure appeared at the door.

“Good evening everyone” Angelo said cheerily. “Glad to see you’re all looking so well.”

“Come ‘ere you!” Yangus snarled in fury, throwing himself against the bars and trying to grab him, but Angelo neatly stepped out of range.

“Now, now, control your temper” Angelo chided, not the least bit put out. “I must apologise for before. Perhaps you’ll accept this as conciliation?” he offered, holding up a set of keys.

“What are you up to?” Jay demanded.

“Not now, we’re too exposed – I’ll explain later” Angelo answered as he unlocked the door and their chains one by one. “Now come on, this way. I drugged the guard on duty, so no one make a sound, okay?”

What choice did they have? They quietly followed him down the corridor, but instead of taking them to the way out he led them into the torture chambers they’d seen earlier. The torture chamber seemed to be filled with the ‘standard’ equipment from the stories, a large rack in the middle and an evil-looking rusty iron maiden in the corner. Thumbscrews, pokers, chains and so on were laid out neatly on the table by the side of the room, various seats so that others could watch next to them. The room was so clean that it looked like someone had been preparing the room for tomorrow. She shuddered seeing all the implements that would have been used on them, imagining all too clearly the feel of the wicked-looking implements biting into her skin and carrying out their terrible work.

“We can talk in here; the walls are spelled to be soundproof – no need for the screams to disturb the monks from their prayers.”

“Good!” Trode snapped before anyone else had a chance. “Tell us what is going on! What ordeal do you intend to put us through next, hm?”

“Like I said, I’m sorry about before” Angelo replied, pulling out their confiscated belongings from a bag stashed in a corner, including both their confiscated weapons and, to Jay’s delight, Munchie’s cage. Despite his words though Angelo didn’t look or sound at all concerned. “I couldn’t stand up for you earlier. If I hadn’t lied about the ring Marcello would have been onto me in a snap and then I would’ve been locked up alongside you, and no-one would’ve been able to stage a dashing rescue. But I came to get you out, didn’t I?” They all scowled at him, but it wasn’t like they could argue with him – he was their only chance of escape. That didn’t mean they had to like him though. “Come on! Don’t be angry!” Angelo laughed mockingly as they collected their weapons. “I know, let me show you something you won’t have seen before to make up for it.”

Angelo led them over to the iron maiden and opened it up. It was just how she had pictured it – a large cold metal coffin with hinges on both sides, the front opening right down the middle. The inside was covered with spikes tipped with rust, with more rust on the floor. “There! And that’s **real** blood on those spikes you know. If I were to throw you in there and shut the door, your whole body would be skewered. I could make you hole-ier than thou without so much as getting my hands dirty. Not bad, eh?”

Then Angelo suddenly grabbed Trode by the cloak and threw him inside, slamming the doors.

Trode let out a blood-curdling scream and Jay dropped Munchie and launched himself at Angelo while she prepared a fireball. Angelo was ready for them and quickly stepped to one side, but Jay stepped with him and tackled him to the floor as he drew his sword and-

“Eh?” Suddenly Trode stopped screaming. Everyone stared at the iron maiden as a light tapping sound came from inside. “Ooh! Can you hear me out there?” Trode said, not sounding at all hurt. “There is a secret passage in here!”

Everyone turned back to Angelo, who grinned wickedly at them. “Like I said, not bad eh?”

Dear Goddess, she hated that man.

Jay smiled back at Angelo, then kicked him in the groin, hard. Then while Angelo was writhing on the floor Jay got up and opened the iron maiden.

The iron maiden was empty.

Jay picked up Munchie from the floor, apologised for dropping him, then started tapping the metal spikes inside, trying to find the secret passage. “Do ya really think we can trust this bloke?” Yangus asked Jay warily, looking sidelong at Angelo. “Just thinkin’ about all them spikes makes me feel queasy. It’s like they’re sinkin’ into me skin already.”

“If we hang around too long they’ll catch me helping you to escape. Let’s move” Angelo chivvied, wincing as he got back to his feet. “Don’t you trust me?”

“What do you think?” Jay snarled, but they all knew there was no other choice. Jay stepped inside and said gruffly “Alright, get on with it.” Angelo shut the doors on him, and when he opened them again Jay was nowhere to be seen. How-

“Angelo, could you bring a torch in here?” Jay called from the other side.

Angelo smirked, picking up a torch he’d stashed in the corner and lighting it from one of the ones mounted on the wall. He then calmly walked into the iron maiden, taking the heavy hint that he was to be next, and gestured for her to close the doors. She did so, almost wishing that it **would** punch him full of holes, and when she opened them again he was nowhere to be seen. “But of course. He’s one I prepared earlier” she heard Angelo say mischievously.

“How kind.”

She had never heard Jay’s voice sound so cold and hard, but she could understand why – she wanted to murder Angelo too. “Is it safe?” Nothing had happened to the last three so logically she should be safe, but then again she was stepping inside an **iron maiden** and she still was not entirely reassured that she wouldn’t be skewered.

“Apparently.”

“Great. Thanks” she snapped, glaring at where Jay’s voice was coming from as she stepped into the iron maiden. She could understand he was angry, but there was no need to take it out on **her** _._ Yangus slowly closed the metal iron doors on her, the spikes getting closer and closer and closer, but just as the doors were about to shut the back of the iron maiden swung open, and suddenly she found herself next to the others. A moment later and Yangus joined them, and they all started heading down the secret tunnel, Angelo leading the way of course.

“I appreciate you showing us this secret tunnel, but did you have to show it to us like **that?** ” Jay asked, his tone still sharp and angry.

“Well, if I’d told you there was a secret tunnel, and all you had to do was step into the iron maiden, would you have believed me?” Angelo countered.

“No, but there was nothing stopping **you** from getting in the iron maiden and showing us how it worked!”

“Ah, but you might have thought that it was a trick to lure you into impaling yourself – we would have wasted precious time trying to convince you to step inside. Believe me, my way was quicker.”

“Perhaps. Just be grateful that I wasn’t any faster with my sword or you’d be without a head!” Wow, she’d never seen Jay so angry. She could understand, but it was **Jay** _,_ and he was always so calm and reasonable and easy-going.

“Mm. Perhaps it was in poor taste. I can’t say I enjoyed it much when it was pulled on me.”

“...What?”

“’ere, wot’s your game, eh?” Yangus asked suspiciously. “First ya grass on us fer summink we ain’t done, an’ then ya come an’ help us.”

“Sorry if I’ve confused you. The people here have a bit of a trust issue with me.” They snorted, unsurprised. “I couldn’t stick up for you before; it would have backfired. Marcello hates me and is already looking for an excuse to kick me out of the Abbey; giving you my ring and telling you of the secret passage would have been enough, and that’s if he didn’t have me chained up alongside you. Sorry I had to sell you out, but I had to let him put you in the cells before I could help. I had the best intentions, I swear to the Goddess.”

“That’s all well an’ good, but ya still don’t know us from Adam. Ain’t you worried ‘bout us bein’ friends wiv this monster, eh? You’re just ‘appy to let us go, are ya?” Yangus persisted doggedly. Trode nodded in agreement, though he looked up sharply at ‘monster’ but decided to let it pass under the circumstances.

“True, I don’t know anything about you, and I didn’t see you get caught” Angelo admitted. “But I **do** know that you saved the Abbot’s life. I know because just before you were captured, that sinister feeling lingering in the air went away. I have to thank you for that; I’m not so ruthless that I’d hang you out to dry.

“As for knowing you weren’t trying to kill the Abbot – I spoke with some of the Templars who arrested you, and you were standing by the Abbot’s bed and he’d woken up – if you’d wanted to kill him, he’d have already been dead before any of the Templars entered the room, and you’d definitely put up more of a fight trying to escape. Added to that, your weapons don’t have any blood on them, not human blood anyway, so you couldn’t have been the ones who attacked those Templars.

“And besides” Angelo added, his playful tone returning as he turned his eye on her, “I couldn’t stand by while there was a lady in danger. Marcello’s a rather talented inquisitor you know; I couldn’t leave a damsel in distress with no-one to rescue her.”

“She ain’t no damsel in distress” Yangus muttered, Jay nodding in agreement as he rubbed his eye. She glared at the lot of them, grateful that the torchlight hid her flaming cheeks.

By now they had reached the end of the tunnel and found a ladder propped up against the wall before them. As she climbed she realised that they must have walked underneath the river again; judging from the height of the ladder the tunnel was certainly deep enough, and if they were to escape the abbey they had to get off the island it sat on. Thankfully the ladder was in good condition, or they would have been stuck. Due to his height Trode was forced to cling on to Yangus’ back in a rather undignified fashion however, much to his distaste. Seeing Jay’s look though Angelo wisely decided not to laugh, and she ensured the others climbed before her as she did not trust Angelo not to look up her skirt.

The ladder emerged amongst a pile of hay in the stables across the river from the Abbey, meaning that their escape would remain unnoticed. Even better Medea had been found and stabled here by the Templars; on seeing her Trode leapt off Yangus’ back and gave her a great hug. Jay was close behind him, fussing over her and making sure she had been treated well while Angelo looked on in bemusement.

“Right, this is as far as I go; you’d have to work pretty hard to mess up your escape from here” Angelo told them. “My advice – put as much distance between you and the Abbey as you can; Marcello is going to be furious that you escaped and will probably send out a whole Watch after you. If you can keep out of sight for the next week and steer clear from the Church for a while they’ll probably give up though, especially if those injured Templars wake up and say it wasn’t you who attacked them. If you’re cleared of that then Marcello will lose interest, and you should be able to get on with your lives, especially as he doesn’t know who you are or where you’re from.”

“Sounds good, we’ll do our best to stay out of trouble until all this blows over” Jay nodded. “And Angelo... you pulled some pretty nasty tricks on us, but you helped us out in the end, so... thank you.”

Angelo flashed a small regretful smile. “I’m sorry for all the trouble – I didn’t think it would get this out of hand. May the Goddess watch over you as your story unfolds and protect you on your journey.”

“And may the Lady remember the kindness you have shown us and smile kindly on you.” With the Rites complete they left the stables, ready to leave the abbey far behind them.

Only to see the Abbey was on fire.

\-----

“Dear Goddess, is the whole Abbey on fire?” Angelo gasped, his eyes wide with horror. Looking closer, so far only the bridge connecting the Abbot’s Manse with the rest of the Abbey was on fire. The flames were burning furiously though, and sparks were landing on the monks living quarters and threatening to set them on fire as well – if nothing was done the fire would soon spread to engulf the entire Abbey.

“Wait, the bridge between the Manse and the Abbey is on fire? That can’t be an accident... Did that jester return? I’ve got to get back to the Abbey!” Angelo broke into a run, racing towards the bridge to the Abbey as fast as he could.

He exchanged looks with the others. “We have to go back.”

“Wot? Back there?” Yangus cried. “But they was gonna torture us! We go back there an’ we’ll just end up in that cell again.”

“But Dhoulmagus is there!” Jess argued. “He’s probably with the Abbot as we speak! We need to hurry if we’re going to stop him! The Abbot’s life is in danger!”

“Wot about **our** lives? **They’ll** be in danger an’ all if we go back there!” Yangus pointed out.

“We have no choice” he said firmly. “If we want to stop Dhoulmagus, we have to go back. Besides, his attack will prove our innocence, but if we’re not there **we’ll** be blamed. And the longer we stand around here, the more time Dhoulmagus has to kill the Abbot. We need to move, now!”

There was no time to argue – he turned and ran to the Abbey. Sure enough, Jess and Yangus were close behind.

“You ‘ope it’ll prove us innocent” Yangus muttered. “They might just blame us anyway.”

When they got to the Abbey it was in chaos. They had to shove past the pilgrims and locals who had come running as soon as they’d seen the fire, and then dodge the Templars holding the others at bay as they tried to insist that everything was under control. Ignoring their protests to stop, they ran through the chapel and into the courtyard. As they entered a monk cried out hysterically “It’s no use! The end is nigh! Every one of us will be cast into Oblivion!”

“Snap out of it!” he snapped, giving the monk a good slap. “The only way this is the end is if you give up! Go and help put out the fire!” The monk nodded dully and raced through the living quarters. They went to follow him but were confronted by another monk. “This fountain isn’t enough to put out the flames!” the monk cried. “What are we going to do?”

“Not enough... We’re on an **island,** you fool! We’re **surrounded** by water! Stop messing around with the fountain and get to the river!” The monk just stared at him, panic freezing his mind. “Just follow me!” he snapped, running through the living quarters to the burning bridge. As they arrived at the bridge he saw four Templars milling about, unsure what to do. They went to cross, but they were stopped by one of the Templars as they tried to get to the bridge, a big bulk of a fellow. “What are you doing here?” the Templar challenged.

“We’re here to help” he replied. “Who’s in charge here?”

“Marcello.”

“Where’s he?”

“He’s with the Abbot. He went over to stand a night vigil over the Abbot, to make sure that no-one else tried-”

Jay looked at the Abbot’s house, which was blocked off by the flames, and cut off the Templar before he remembered who’d been accused the first time. “Who else is in charge here?”

“Antonio; he’s the second in command.”

“Where’s he?”

“He was wounded in the attack earlier by the-”

“Forget that! Who’s in charge **now**?!?”

“I, er, well...[1]”

He yelled in frustration before snapping “Alright, **you’re** in charge. Now tell me, where are some buckets we can use?”

“There’ll be some in the kitchen for storing food and carrying water, but they’ll-”

“Go get them, snap to it! Yangus, go help” he ordered. Once Yangus and two Templars had gone to fetch the buckets, He turned back to the newly promoted Templar. “We need more men. Where are the rest of the guards?”

“This is all we’ve got. Everyone else is either wounded or with Marcello and the Abbot.”

“What about the monks?”

“They’ll be in the chapel for midnight mass.”

He turned to Jess. “Go and fetch the monks, and grab the pilgrims outside as well.”

“But you can’t go in there!” the Templar protested as Jess ran off. “That chapel’s only for the monks! If you go in there you’ll bring down the Goddess’ anger!”

“I think the Goddess will be angrier if you let her abbey burn down than if you interrupt a service! Priorities man! Now get everyone into a line!”

“Wait... Aren’t you the-”

“Never mind that, hurry up and form a line! Snap to it!”

Somehow he managed to pull it off, bullying the Templars into forming a line, and once Yangus arrived with the buckets they started a chain, passing the buckets down to be filled with water before passing them back to empty them on the fire. But they were fighting a losing battle and the flames roared with a vengeance. It seemed like they were going to lose the abbey when Jess arrived with the monks and all those outside. With their help they formed another five lines and were soon holding their own against the fire.

They may have been winning the battle for the Abbey’s living quarters, but the bridge was raging out of control. Despite its proximity to the water the fire burned hungrily at the wood, turning the bridge into a blazing inferno. If they didn’t move soon the bridge would collapse, and then they’d be cut off from the Abbot and Dhoulmagus. He quickly grabbed Jess and Yangus and led them to the river, grabbing a bucket from the chain and emptying it over Jess. “What are you doing?” she spluttered.

“If we soak ourselves with water it should protect us long enough from the flames to get across” he told them, refilling the bucket and emptying it over himself.

“Ya wot?” gasped Yangus.

“You’re not saying we have to go across that?” Jess said incredulously.

“Do you want to catch Dhoulmagus?” Jess scowled but they both fell silent. “Well then, let’s go!” he told them, running across the bridge, not looking back to see if they followed.

“For Alistair” Jessica whispered as she steeled herself before running after him.

“Cor blimey, ‘ow does the guv get us into these messes?” Yangus muttered, before racing after them both.

They charged across the bridge, dodging the weaker planks and darting across as quickly as they could. The sheer heat of the fire was unbearable and made them feel as if they were in a furnace, made all worse by flames licking at their clothes. The bridge seemed to go on forever and they gagged on the smoke billowing from the fire, leaping over bits which were beginning to collapse, wondering if they were going to make it.

Finally they reached the other side and leapt to safety, swiftly stamping out bits of burning clothes and hair. One of Jessica’s pigtails had caught fire and was badly singed, filling the air with the nasty smell of burnt hair, and her skirts were badly charred. She caught it the worst though – he and Yangus only suffered minor burns, although Yangus’ fur top was never going to be the same again. Once they recovered he tried the door, but it was locked from the inside. He put his head against the door and could hear the sounds of battle, but there was no way in.

“ **ABBOT FRANCISCO!** ”

The sudden yell startled them, and they spun round to see Angelo running across the bridge. The flames licked at his clothes and set his cape on fire, singing his carefully groomed platinum hair and scorching his boots, but he took no notice and carried on. But the bridge was already weakened from the flames and their crossing had only made it worse; it simply wasn’t strong enough to support another and began to collapse into the river, snapping and crackling like firewood. Angelo didn’t give in though and leapt nimbly from plank to plank, racing ahead of the crumbling bridge before making a final leap to safety.

Once Angelo reached firm ground safely he quickly stamped out the flames on his cloak and hair and then charged at the door, slamming against it and tugging at it in vain. “Blast _,_ it’s locked from the inside! Marcello! Are you in there!?” Angelo yelled, but no reply came. “Damn _,_ what’s going on!?” Then Angelo finally caught sight of them. “You lot! Did you follow me here? Wait, never mind, I need your help one last time! We need to break this door down; if we work together, we might just have a chance!”

He nodded, putting everything else aside for now. “Right. Yangus, you take front. Jess, you take the back. Angelo with me. Got it?” The others nodded and moved into position. “Alright, on three. One! Two! Three!”

They charged the door; Yangus slammed against it and it buckled, and then he and Angelo hit it and it splintered, and then with Jess’ final shove it gave way and they all tumbled in.

As they got up they saw a familiar scene; the room, which had been righted after the first fight, was in ruins again. There were two Templars sprawled out on the floor. One had been thrown across the room and had crashed into a bookcase before it fell on top of him. The other had been smashed through the table and was lying on the floor, his sword lying broken beside him. Angelo raced over to him, while he ran to the other. “Dhoulmagus did this” Jess snarled. “He did it **again**. We can’t let him get away with it!”

He drew back from the Templar and shook his head sadly – there was nothing they could do for him. “This is bad guv” Yangus said grimly. “I can smell blood in the air. If anythin’ ‘appens, you just leave it to me, alright? I’ve got more experience o’ this sort o’ thin’ than you or Jess.”

Angelo was kneeling down by the other Templar and trying to slap him awake. When his eyes flickered, he asked urgently “What happened!? Come on, stay with it! Tell me, what happened!?”

“Thank... Goddess... you... came. Help... the abbot...” the Templar gasped, barely conscious. His once fine blue robes were now soaked in blood and he looked in a bad way. His eyes were staring wildly, and blood was trickling out of his mouth.

“Who on Empyreus did this!?” Angelo asked, but the Templar didn’t appear to hear him.

“That... jester, he’s dangerous” the Templar went on. “Captain... Marcello... is in... tro...” He didn’t finish and slumped in Angelo’s arms. Angelo felt for his pulse, then sadly put the Templar’s body on the floor and closed his eyes. They could hear the sound of fighting from upstairs and desperate cries of pain and anger.

“Come on, let’s go!” Angelo cried. He ran to the stairs, but stopped and turned back to them. “You’re with me, right?” They nodded. “Thanks” he said gratefully and ran up the stairs, the rest of them close on his heels.

Here there were another two Templars sprawled on the floor, covered in blood. They didn’t stop and carried on up the next set of stairs to the Abbot’s bedroom, the sound of fighting getting closer. As they ran up the stairs a Templar came tumbling down them, forcing them to jump out of the way. Yangus didn’t dodge in time and landed awkwardly on the floor below, knocked unconscious. There wasn’t time to stop and go back for him though, they had to carry on to the Abbot’s bedroom without him.

When they arrived they saw things were bad; Marcello was standing in front of the Abbot, his sword drawn and held out in front of him, his teeth gritted against the pain of his wounds. Another Templar was lying unconscious on the other side of the room. And in the middle, hovering in the air with a manic grin only made more sinister by his painted smile, was the jester, Dhoulmagus.

No sooner had they arrived than Marcello leapt towards him, but Dhoulmagus batted him out of the air and he slammed against the wall, grunting with pain. He tried to get up, but the jester stuck him down with some dark unseen force and he slumped to the floor. “Marcello!” Angelo cried and he ran over to him, trying to help him up.

“That jester!” Marcello gasped in pain and disbelief. “I couldn’t stop him. You can’t let him...” He suddenly batted Angelo’s hand away from him. “This is an order, Templar Angelo. Get the abbot to safety; I’ll hold him off!”

“Right” Angelo answered. “I won’t let you dow-”

Dhoulmagus, who’d been watching the two Templars, promptly threw Angelo against the wall as well, slamming him into it so hard that he bounced off and crashed to the floor unconscious. He gave a crazed, triumphant laugh. “Now nothing stands in my way!”.

“Not so fast!” he cried, leaping in front of Abbot Francisco and taking Marcello’s place.

“You again?” Dhoulmagus said in an amused tone. “I didn’t except to see you so soon. Do you really think you have the power to stop me?”

“There’s only one way to find out” he said grimly.

“Such spirit! How grand! Such a pity it will do no good...”

“Don’t you **dare** lay a finger on Abbot Francisco!” Marcello cried weakly.

“Do not worry Marcello” reassured the Abbot calmly, much more calmly than the situation warranted. “I will be fine. I have given myself to the Goddess. If it is Her will, I am prepared to die. But” he said, his voice becoming stern and hard as he turned to Dhoulmagus. “Wretched sinner, if that is **not** Her will, nothing you can do will ever harm me! The Goddess will protect us all from whatever evil you can muster!” he cried, holding out his holy star in front of himself, though whether to protect himself or banish Dhoulmagus he wasn’t sure.

“Well, well, what faith you have” Dhoulmagus replied. “Let’s put it to the test, shall we?”

“Wait!” cried a familiar voice. Suddenly, from nowhere King Trode leapt into the room, shoving Jessica out of the way. “Sire?!?” he exclaimed. “What are you...? Get behind me, quickly!”

The King ignored him, focusing on the jester. “It’s been a while, Dhoulmagus!”

“Well, if it isn’t King Toad!” Dhoulmagus replied delightedly. “Looking as small and ugly as ever I see!”

“Shut up!” the King yelled. “Return my daughter and I to normal at once! And do you realise what you’ve done to my castle?”

What? Surely the King didn’t think a few angry words would put a stop to Dhoulmagus’ rampage? “Sire, get behind me!” he hissed, but the King wasn’t listening. He glanced desperately at Jessica, but she was frozen with shock, confronted with her brother’s killer so close for the first time. Yangus was still downstairs, Angelo was unconscious, and Marcello was too badly wounded. He was on his own.

“Enough! I tire of this. Your time has come!” Dhoulmagus cried and raised his staff into the air, filling it with magic until it crackled with his power. He started charging towards Dhoulmagus, hoping to stop him from getting a clear shot, but the jester threw his staff like a spear at King Trode. He tried to block it, but it sped straight past his defence and landed with a sickening thud behind him. Everyone turned to stare at Abbot Francisco, who had calmly stepped in front of the now blood-splattered Trode. Francisco blinked and looked down at his chest where the hilt of the staff still stuck out. He tried to say something but all that came out was blood, staining his beautiful white moustache. Then the staff shot back into Dhoulmagus’ hand and he fell to the floor, dead, his broken emblem clattering to the floor in pieces beside him.

“Such a pity” Dhoulmagus sneered. “It seems both fate and your benevolent Goddess are on my side.” He gave a cruel, evil laugh. “Yes, such a pity. Poor Francisco.” Suddenly his staff began to crackle with energy. “Yes, the power! My work here is done!” the jester cried triumphantly, hovering higher in the air. He snapped out of the horror that had frozen him when Abbot Francisco died and continued his charge at Dhoulmagus. But he was too late – the jester merely rose higher and he crashed against the wall and fell to the floor.

“Parting is such sweet sorrow!” Dhoulmagus laughed, vanishing before their eyes. Jess reacted at last, but Dhoulmagus was too fast and the fireball smashed the window behind him instead. As everyone looked on helplessly, all that remained was the echo of his evil laugh and the body of poor Abbot Francisco, whose blood was slowly spreading across the floor.

\-----

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is Marcello a bit too much here? He does get a little more 'hands-on' than in the game, though nothing too shocking (can't lose that T rating). Personally I don't think it's that out of character, given that he did threaten them with torture, and he truly does believe that they were trying to kill Abbot Francisco. He does deeply care for Abbot Francisco after all, as his final stand shows, and the evidence is pretty incriminating after all, even if it is all circumstantial; I don't think he'd have any trouble making someone who wanted to hurt Abbot Francisco suffer, even if that goes against his wishes and that of the Goddess. On the other hand, I don't want to make him come across as evil just because he's against our protagonists. Ruthless, yes, evil, no. What do you think?
> 
> I also worry that this feels a little anti-climatic after the big fight in the last chapter. I suppose that's kind of the point - Dhoulmagus just leaves once he's done, ignoring them as not worth his time. Obviously he's going to regret that decision, but for now it's justified. Dhoulmagus just ploughed through dozens of Templars, killing some while merely breaking some of the others, while the Templars failed to even injure him - in fact, he barely broke his stride. I actually wrote a snippet, but then I scrapped for spoiling the flow of the story.  
> Now you may be thinking, well yes, but the Templars are just mooks. Well, actually the Templars are the strongest military force in this setting - the royal kingdoms don't have standing armies, and the Templars are considered a very prestigious order and so get lots of Helms joining - Helms who have spent most of their lives practicing to fight, and then continue to be paid to fight. They are by far superior compared to the Royal Guards, who mainly guard and are mostly ceremonial, and compared to the party... well, the party don't exactly measure up. Given Dhoulmagus just wiped the Templars out so easily, he barely takes any notice of the party. And that stings. More on that later.
> 
> Anyway, I would be interested to hear what you think. This is the last chapter of this book, bar the epilogue, though as you can see there's still plenty left of the story. Those of you who've spotted my numbering or read the previous version can guess that 'Volume B' is next. Sadly, my sense of originality for names has always been lacking... But you'd be surprised if the next volume was volume Z, right?


	15. The Journey Goes On

As was his habit he rose just as the sun was coming up. Most would be grumpy at having to get up that early, but considering that he usually took last watch of the night this was actually a lie-in. What’s more, it was the second in a row.

He got out of bed and looked out of the window; it was a beautiful day, much better than yesterday when it rained all through the funeral. The rain had come on suddenly the day before, as if the Heavens themselves were trying to put out the fire that had threatened Maella Abbey. Or maybe the Heavens had been weeping for Abbot Francisco. Such a kind and gentle man, greatly respected for his teachings and his love for his fellow man – he didn’t deserve to be murdered like that. At least it had been quick, though it was little comfort for the brothers here at the Abbey.

His hadn’t been the only death either. Six of the Templars on duty that fateful night had either been killed outright by Dhoulmagus or had died of their wounds shortly afterwards, and that was after one of the Templars injured in the first attack had died. He even knew one of them, if only because he’d been the one that had pushed him around just a couple of days ago – but no matter how the man had treated him, he’d died doing his duty, so perhaps the Goddess would look kindly on him. A dozen more Templars were seriously wounded, so it had been a very depleted and subdued group that had gathered alongside the monks for the funeral yesterday.

The funeral service had really been something. All the local towns and villages had emptied despite only having a day’s notice, and with the pilgrims and local nobility adding to their number the crowd had been large enough to cover the entire riverbank – there had probably been nearly a thousand people there in all, despite the heavy rain. The monks had been forced to cast an amplification spell on Marcello so that everyone could hear him lead the service, but even so he’d found it difficult to hear him sometimes, and he’d been close to the front.

Despite his injuries Marcello had led the entire service, speaking at length about Abbot Francisco and his life, and what the Abbot had meant to him and to the Abbey. He had been amazed all over again at the Abbot’s eventful life, his prestigious career within the Church and the huge number of good works he’d undertaken when he’d arrived at the Abbey – some said it was thanks to him that Simpleton survived after the Queens’ Plague decimated the town. In between the speeches they sang some hymns and the choir had sung a few songs, and when the service was over they set his funeral barge alight and sent it racing down the river. Now the Abbey was beginning work on a small shrine for Abbot Francisco, to be built underneath the shade of the willow tree where he’d often sat to talk with the Goddess, and there was talk of getting him made into a saint.

But none of that had anything to do with him; **he** needed to resume the chase and bring Dhoulmagus to justice, now more than ever – he didn’t have time to be wasting it here. The weather was too beautiful to be thinking of such gloomy things anyway.

He changed his smallclothes, used the jug of water provided for the Rites of Cleansing, then pulled on his new clothes, provided by the Abbey as way of apology for their treatment after his last set were destroyed. The Abbey had even provided them with rooms for the last two days, but they had mixed feelings about that; they appreciated the gesture, but knowing the rooms they were staying in had belonged to Templars killed by Dhoulmagus two days before was just...

Best not to think about it. He strapped his scale armour into place, then pulled on his new jacket and fastened his shield on his arm. Finally putting on his boots and tying them firmly, he picked up Munchie and set out the door, ready to go.

First though he needed to wake his companions.

They’d been given rooms next to each other, so he just walked into the cell next to his and gently kicked Yangus awake. Then, leaving Yangus to finish getting himself up, he went to the cell opposite. Literally the furthest cell from the others, so that Jess didn’t tempt the monks with her ‘feminine wiles’, he didn’t go inside as... well... There were some things you just didn’t do! He’d come up with a work-around back when they’d been on the ferry though, and started tapping on the door, gradually getting louder and louder.

“Alright, alright! I’m up, I’m up!” yelled a voice by the time he’d got to knocking, something hard like a shoe slamming against the door. He gave two more taps, then left before the fireballs started and joined the monks for breakfast. After the local villagers had finally managed to build a temporary bridge between the two islands Marcello had explained to everyone what had happened – that it hadn’t been them who murdered the Abbot, but the sorcerer Dhoulmagus disguised as a jester, and that they really had been trying to protect the Abbot all the long. Which was just as well, otherwise they might have been lynched.

“Good, you’re awake.” He glanced up in surprise and saw Angelo walking towards him.

“Morning” he greeted.

“Morning” Angelo returned, taking a seat opposite him. “I just wanted to reassure you one last time that everyone knows you’re innocent. Why, if it weren’t for you Captain Marcello would have been killed as well and the entire Abbey might have been lost in the fire – we’re all in your debt.”

“Thanks. And thank you – for getting us out of that cell.”

“I was just clearing my debts – never let it be said I don’t pay what I owe.”

“Well, never let it be said I don’t give thanks where it’s due. Just don’t expect Jessica to suddenly fall for your charms – you may have made up for your betrayal, but she hasn’t forgiven you for the way you propositioned her outside the pub. You’ll need to work hard to get her to forget that!”

“Oh, is that right?” Angelo smirked, but then his smile suddenly faded. “Anyway, the ‘Templar Captain’ has summoned you to his office. Come as soon as you’re ready.”

“Just me, or the others as well?”

“All of you. He wants to make his ‘official apology’.”

“We’ll be there. Just give us... ten.”

Angelo gave him a curt nod, then got up and strode out the room. He wondered what had come over Angelo all of a sudden, but he put it out of his mind and focused on his breakfast while he waited for Jess and Yangus to join him.

It was a little while before the others joined him, taking their time as they didn’t think there was any rush, and then were annoyed with him when he made them hurry their breakfast. It was clear they’d never been in service – you **always** got ready and took your food as quick as you could, because you never knew when you’d be needed. Despite his best efforts they didn’t quite make it on time, but Marcello wasn’t going anywhere.

They had to wait until the two Templars cleared them, the Abbey taking no chances now that Marcello had been chosen as Abbot, at least until a new appointment was confirmed by the Holy Circle. Of course, considering Dhoulmagus had actually walked in and out of the Abbey twice despite the Templars’ best efforts to stop him, two guards probably weren’t going to do much good, but they took their job seriously and only let them through once they had confirmed they had an appointment and were unarmed.

Marcello was at the far end of the room, sitting behind a desk with a window into the Abbey courtyard behind him. The room was comfortably but not richly furnished, with a few books on a shelf in one corner of the room and several chests in another. Several robes and armour hung on the wall, needed for the various religious ceremonies the Abbey held, as well as some simpler clothes for more practical use; more would hang there as soon as his priestly garments were ready. Asides from that there were a few bookcases filled with thick weighty tomes, and several chairs laid out before the desk, which they sat at.

“Good morning. I trust you slept well?” Marcello greeted after a moment, as if only just spotting them. Not waiting for an answer, he continued, saying “I apologise for having doubted you. Dhoulmagus is the true culprit – he used you to distract us and lull us into a false sense of security, and at the same time used us to get you out of the way. In the Goddess’ name we must strike down that diabolical ‘jester’, not only to avenge the Abbot’s death and those he has already killed, but also to prevent him taking any more innocent lives. He must be brought to justice and feel the full might of the Goddess’ wrath!

“Unfortunately, I cannot leave here now. As the new Abbot, I have much to do – I must be here to guide my flock, to reassure them and help them through their grief. And as Templar Captain I must stay to protect the Abbey, now more than ever, and find men to replace those that have fallen. I am unable to personally hunt down Dhoulmagus and ensure he receives the appropriate level of punishment for Abbot Francisco’s murder, as much as I would like to. And with so many of our Templars wounded or dead, I can’t send a Watch or even a section out after him.

“Which brings me to why I called you here. From what you told me, you are pursuing Dhoulmagus, yes?” He nodded. “Well then, I would like you to continue your pursuit on my behalf. I understand you are low on coin, so I have gathered a purse to meet your expenses, and I have a writ here that will authorise you to draw more funds from the Church as and when necessary, within reason of course. That writ will also authorise you access to most places as is within my power, and the ability to call upon the Templars should you find it necessary. I trust this meets your approval?”

“I... Yes!” This was... This was a gift from the Goddess Herself! All their money worries, all the problems with access across borders, all the problems of not having enough men... It was perfect. It was an offer they couldn’t refuse. And Marcello knew it.

“Good. I will of course need a guarantor to go with you, just for formality’s sake and to smooth over any doubts about the writ’s authenticity, so I am sending my brother Angelo to accompany you on your quest.” Well that was fair enou- Wait, brother!?

“Brother? I thought you said you wouldn’t have a rule-breaker as a brother!” Startled to hear Angelo’s voice, he turned and saw Angelo quietly leaning against the wall by the door, his arms crossed and glaring at his brother. He turned to the others and they looked blankly back – they hadn’t seen or heard him either.

“ **Quiet! I wasn’t talking to you!** ” Marcello spat, glaring back at Angelo. Then he took a deep breath and calmed himself down. “Angelo, we have been over this – you are the only one we can spare at the moment. We are already short-handed and everyone else has duties to fulfil. Only you are without such... responsibilities.”

“I’m useless you mean, no need to beat about the bush!” Angelo shot back. “Fine, I understand. You’ve made yourself perfectly clear. I **will** leave the abbey. I **will** travel with these people. And I **will** avenge the Abbot’s murder!”

Having said his piece Angelo stormed out of the room, slamming the door loudly behind him. Marcello glared after him, a giant scowl spreading across his face; he was no expert on families, but he guessed the two weren’t exactly close.

Suddenly remembering they were still here, Marcello composed himself again and passed them the writ. “Here is the writ – consider it a peace offering for having doubted you, and a gesture of thanks for the efforts you have already gone to on our behalf. I entrust Angelo to your care and wish you well on your journey. May the Goddess watch over you on your journey, my child, and keep your path smooth and easy. Know that for all you suffer in this life, you will be repaid in the next.”

“Thank you, Father.” For some reason that title sounded wrong – Marcello seemed to feel it too, as he shifted awkwardly in his seat and looked uncomfortably at the new robes hanging on his wall. It would be a while before the Abbey here returned to normal. “May the Lady watch over your household as your story unfolds, and comfort you in your time of distress. Know that the Goddess knows every story, and She will bring wrongdoers to justice, while those who earnestly follow the path of Harmony will be welcome at Her side.”

They rose and bowed to each other, then they left Marcello to his work and found Angelo waiting for them outside, bag already packed and ready to go. “Hello again” he greeted, his usual good humour restored. “Well, it looks like we’ll be seeing a lot more of each other. I hope you don’t mind me coming along.” He paused, his eyes hardening and his face turning serious. “Just so you know, I’m not doing this because Marcello ordered me – I’m doing it for Abbot Francisco. He was like a father to me. That Dhoulmagus... He can’t get away with this, I won’t let him. And this place... I’ll be glad to escape their stuffy regulations and hypocrisy. It’s no hardship being asked to join you, believe me.”

“And anyway, I promised you, did I not? I said I would reward you for helping me. So, Jessica-” Suddenly he was right next to Jess, leaning in real close. “From now on **I** will protect you; I will never leave your side. Consider me your personal bodyguard” he finished with a flourish, bowing low and kissing her hand.

“Sure lover-boy, in your dreams” Jessica snapped as she snatched her hand back, but Angelo just grinned, unrepentant.

“Just you wait – you’ll come to like it soon enough. Anyway, are you all ready?” Angelo began, turning to him as he dodged Jess’ fireball.

“Pretty much – just give us a chance to grab our things and we’ll be on our way” he answered, doing his best to ignore Jess’ furious looks their way. “Um... can you give us a moment to talk about you while we get our things?”

Angelo gave him a surprised look and burst out laughing. “Sure, I need pray at the altar before I leave anyway. I’ll meet you there.”

“Thanks.”

Angelo set off for the main chapel while they went back to their cells to get-

“I cannot believe you just said that to his face!” Jess exclaimed.

“Come on, you may not like him but give him some credit – he knew full well what we were going to do. The question is, do you think he would have just accepted that, or deliberately hung around to make things awkward for his own amusement?”

“...Even so!”

“It was kinda funny” Yangus sniggered. “But Jess, you know the guv ain’t ‘xactly good ‘bout talkin’ smack ‘bout people.”

“Don’t call me that” he groaned. “Now come on Jess, I gave you this opportunity to vent without setting fire to anything – let’s hear it.”

“Well, since you asked so nicely... Do we **really** have to have **him** with us?” Jess demanded.

He shrugged. “It was one of Marcello’s conditions for all that stuff he gave us. It’s not unreasonable, and we can’t exactly turn down his offer, all things considered.”

“No. As much as I dislike him for how he treated us, he made us a fair offer” Jess conceded. “But why, of all the Templars in the abbey, did he have to choose **him** , my least favourite Templar!”

“Probably because he’s Marcello’s least favourite Templar?” he offered.

“Exactly! He drinks, he gambles, he fools around with women, he has no respect for authority, he is always in trouble... What kind of a Templar is he!?”

“Well, I agree. He’s nothing like what a Templar should be.”

“Exactly!”

“Then again, none of the other Templars here are either – not even their captain.”

“No... But he is by far the worst!”

“Mm. I can’t say I liked how he sold us out the other night either.”

“No. ...Although he did break us out afterwards” Jess admitted.

“Mm. And there is one other thing.”

“What?”

“Out of all the Templars here, and all the monks too, only he sensed something was wrong. None of the others took a blind bit of notice of Dhoulmagus – and considering what he looks like, that’s pretty poor.”

“’e ain’t ‘xactly inconspiccyus, is ‘e?” Yangus agreed.

“...No, he is not” Jess nodded slowly. “And if he has that sort of sensitivity, that might help us locate Dhoulmagus.”

He shrugged again. “Perhaps. More importantly, when the bridge was on fire, do you remember what the Templars were doing?”

“...They were just wandering around, panicking about the fire but not doing anything about it. We were the ones who organised them to put the fire out, and we were the ones who ran across the bridge. ...And Angelo ran across too.”

“Mm. And when he saw the dead Templars, one even dying in his arms, he didn’t hesitate to run and defend Abbot Francisco, even though Dhoulmagus had brutally overpowered half the Templars in the abbey by then.”

“Not that he did much good!” Jess retorted, but then immediately subsided. “...Not that I can talk. I can’t believe I just froze like that! I couldn’t even move my lips to curse him! I was completely useless!”

“Well wot about me, eh?” Yangus pointed out. “There I was, tellin’ you and the guv-”

“Don’t call me that.”

“-to leave things to me, sayin’ ‘ow I was all experienced ‘n’ that, an’ then I fall over ‘n’ bump me noggin, an’ by the time I get wiv it everyfin was all over! There was the guv and Angelo, all ready to go toe-to-toe wiv that Dhoulmagus, an’ I was bloomin’ useless! Even the ol’ codger did ‘is part, even if ‘e only made things worse, but me? I was just watchin’ the stars swim ‘round me ‘ead, no good fer nothin’!”

“You were caught by surprise and stunned by the fall – I just stood there, useless!” Jess countered. “If I’d only thrown a fireball or something, I might have distracted him long enough to-”

“To do what? He outfought half the Templar guard, and we were far from top form!” he snapped. “I tried to fight him, but he barely acknowledged my existence! At best we’d have been a distraction, and at worst he’d have just killed the lot of us! The only reason any of us are alive is because Dhoulmagus didn’t think we were worth the bother!”

There was a long silence.

“Sorry, I just...” He took a deep breath. “Look, if he could outfight all the Templars, and they’re supposed to be the best of the best, then we obviously need to get stronger if we want to kill Dhoulmagus. This writ of Marcello’s should help, but... Next time we meet, he’s going to take us seriously.”

“Right” the others nodded.

“And hopefully we won’t die.”

“...You could have done without adding that last part” Jess complained, rolling her eyes at him. “Still, I take your point – we need all the help we can get, even if it’s Angelo, and that night he proved he was willing to put his life on the line. He has just as much a stake in this as we do, and with an extra pair of hands perhaps we will stand a greater chance of defeating Dhoulmagus. But if he tries propositioning me one more time, I will not be responsible for the consequences!”

“That’s fair. Now, have we got everything?”

“Yep. It’s all ‘ere guv. We just need to get back to the wagon.”

“Let’s get going then, we can stop and pray at the altar on our way out.”

They left the Templars’ Quarters, passing a couple of monks bearing piles of bandages and others carrying herbal broths or healing potions – a reminder of what they were up against, as if they needed it. All the monks gave them a wide berth – Marcello may have explained they were innocent, but the taint of being charged with heresy still hadn’t been washed away. The last couple of days had done nothing to redeem the abbey in his eyes, even with Marcello’s gift. He wondered if Marcello had noticed how he’d left it out of the Rites, or whether he even cared. He could only pray that the Lady would restore Her Abbey to grace, and soon.

They crossed the courtyard and entered the chapel, joining Angelo in front of the altar. This time none of the monks stopped them for being unclean or approached them for money. This time they were left to offer their prayers to the Goddess in peace, asking for Her guidance and for the strength to defeat and kill Dhoulmagus before he killed anyone else.

“For Abbot Francisco” Angelo said at last, rising to his feet and bowing before the altar.

“For Alistair” Jess whispered, getting up and making the holy gesture as well.

“For the guv” Yangus said, following the others’ lead.

“For Trodain” he finished, crossing his arms across his chest and bowing like the others.

“...Trodain?” Angelo echoed curiously as they headed outside.

“Yes. Actually, before we get going there are some things I better tell you...”

\-----

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, the journey goes on. I want to make it clear that, just because this is the end of the volume, this isn't the end of the story. I mean, I haven't written the end of the story, but there's a lot more than this! So don't go away! :)
> 
> This is actually an epilogue rather than a proper chapter, but trying to make AOO recognise Prologue and Epilogue as chapter numbers absolutely failed, so I gave up. It's really confusing as well, because it messes up my transfer from the word document to the website when the chapter numbers are all different. Oh well, just need to make sure I'm paying attention to what I'm posting and don't accidentally miss a chapter.
> 
> Anyway, as an epilogue, this is mainly just rounding up the details that didn't quite fit in the last chapter, and preparing the groundwork for the next chapter. So, Francisco gets buried, Marcello gets a promotion, the party gets pardoned, and Angelo joins the hunt for Dhoulmagus. Important details to be sure, but minor in comparison. The most important thing in this chapter however, is the introduction of the writ. I've explained before how killing monsters doesn't automatically equal gold, and I was struggling to come up with ways for the party to earn an income or get new equipment - this was the obvious solution. And, it's an effective way for Marcello to palm off an potentially impossible task without cost to himself, either financial or political. And, better yet, it gives Marcello a plausible reason for getting Angelo to join the party and out of the abbey (and his hair). More on that later.
> 
> Well, I hope you've been enjoying everything so far, and that the next volume will continue to be up to standard. Until then!


End file.
